


When The Brown Stuff Hits The Propeller

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek The Gentle Seasons Series [12]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: AU, Amorous Lothario, Apache Dancing, Bickering, Chocolate Reference, Covert Activities, Crossdressing, Dancing, Developing Relationship, Drag, Dressing in Drag, Europe, Farce, First Kiss, Flamenco Dancing, France - Freeform, Hallucinogenic drugs, Humor, Les Danse Apache Parisienne, M/M, Men in drag, Nonsense, Space Pirates, Spying, Star Trek Humor, exotic dancing, first time implied, gypsies, lothario
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-01 22:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10931532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: In order to trap space pirates who are selling illegal hallucinogenic drugs, Kirk, Spock, and McCoy join a carnival traveling through Europe as a dancing duo (Spock and McCoy) and their spokesperson (Kirk).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Esperata for the title. It was included in a comment.

McCoy knew one thing for damn sure. It sure as hell wasn’t supposed to come down to this. He wasn’t supposed to be waiting demurely for a bridegroom who couldn’t remember who he was. He wasn’t supposed to be having a wedding night with Spock. Not that he wouldn’t mind having a wedding night with Spock. That wasn’t it. He just would like it better, though, if Spock knew who he was getting. McCoy wanted Spock to realize that it was McCoy he was getting. On the other hand, Spock might mind if it was McCoy.

Just wait until McCoy caught up with Jim Kirk! The captain had a lot to answer for, mainly why he let Spock take hallucinogenic drugs and tell him it was a new form of chocolate. Negotiations with the space pirates were to trap them in a compromising position with drugs in their possession, not entrap McCoy and Spock in a little love nest.

It had all started innocently enough, of course. It always seemed to start innocently enough, as most of their adventures generally did. And then things began rolling along faster than they should have until McCoy was standing with a veil over his face and wearing a gauzy dress that fell to the floor. Besides that, and perhaps more importantly, he was supposed to be plighting his troth to a slightly tipsy Spock at his side.

It had all started, of course, with Jim Kirk hunting McCoy up in sickbay.

“Bones! Buddy! Friend of mine! Just the guy I wanted to see!”

McCoy glanced up from his PADD. “No,” he said absently and went back to his PADD.

“You haven’t even heard what I had to say, yet!”

“I didn’t have to! Whenever you look slapdash happy like that and call me ‘Buddy,’ it can’t be good news for me. And you didn‘t wait until dinnertime when we would be meeting, anyway. So this can‘t be good for either of us.”

“But, Bones--”

“No. I don‘t want any part of whatever scheme you‘re cooking up.” He made a shooing motion. “Now, go away. I’m a honest, but busy doctor. I want to stay an honest, but busy doctor. I don‘t want my golden retirement years to be spent in a penal colony on some desolate asteroid. Zooming around in deep space is scary enough for me. I sure as hell don‘t want to disintegrate into space dust on a hunk of icy rock that doesn‘t even qualify as a planet.”

“Come on, Bones! Where’s your sense of adventure! That‘s why you joined Star Fleet. ‘To go where no man has gone before.’”

“I’m not in it for the adventure. This is my career. Annuities. Interest compounded quarterly. Money building quietly and steadily, even as we speak. Those things interest me and my banker. Not some harebrained idea for grand adventure in some faraway galaxy that even the Romulans would shun!”

“Bones! I’m not asking just for me. It’s for the good of mankind!”

McCoy looked stunned. He put down his PADD for good without taking his eyes off Kirk. “Oh, hell. What kind of deep shit are you in now?! And why am I getting the ominous feeling that I‘m soon going to standing knee deep in it right along side of you?”

“Well, it isn’t me, so much. It seems that the Federation kinda got into some sticky business that would be kinda embarrassing if the details would get out.”

“Espionage? The spy boys got caught with their pants down?”

“And their dingly-danglies hanging out.”

“And they need me for, what? To identify those things hanging out of their pants as dingly-danglies? Any layman who has a mirror or has ever looked down at himself could do that. The Federation doesn’t need a medical doctor to say, ‘Yep, no doubt about it. That’s a dingly-dangly.’”

“Bones, this calls for a man of your expertise.”

“I am not an expert on dingly-danglies! I did not major in it in school! I‘m a G.P. Wanna stay that way. Don‘t wanna go into dingly-dangly specialization. Even if you do look at me with those calf eyes and give me promises of adventures under the sheets, with you or someone equally exciting. I‘m gonna be smart for once, and keep my dingly-dangly safely where it should be, in my pants. Let it feel as safe as my money back home.”

“This is about something else. No dingly-danglies are involved.” Kirk frowned. “Actually, I suppose I can’t promise that.“

“That’s what I thought. Dingly-danglies are always involved when you’re around, Kirk. Generally yours, for starters.“

“Yeah. It always does seem to get to be that way, doesn’t it?“ Kirk asked with a dreamy smile. He brought himself back to the present. “No, this is something else. Something really interesting. And adventuresome! I immediately thought of you.”

“Me?! And adventure?”

“Yeah!”

“You thought of me? And adventure?”

“Yeah! You got it now, Bones!” Kirk slapped his arm with enthusiasm.

McCoy got suspicious. “Why?”

“It’s something, Bones! It involves space pirates!”

“And you immediately thought of me?! Why in the hell, me?! Surely, you remember me?! The lover of solid ground?! Why me? And space, in any form?”

“And hallucinogenic drugs.”

“Hallucinogenic drugs?! I am still not seeing the connection to me!” 

“Well, you’re the logical one to go with me, since we’ve served together, so long and all.”

“Wait a minute. How come I’m getting the feeling that you can’t order me to do this? Is this something that’s strictly on a volunteer basis?”

“For you.”

“What do you mean, ‘for me?’ You didn’t get to volunteer your services? Or you already have, and now you’re looking for other suckers to con into going along with you?”

“Let just say that some of the upper brass in the Federation know something about me and are suggesting strongly that I take this assignment. Something far, far away from Earth in general and San Francisco in particular.”

“You’re being blackmailed?! By Federation brass?! What did you do?! Screw the commander’s wife?!”

Kirk shrugged. “Beverly is fifty-one. But not bad looking for fifty-one.”

“The commander’s wife?! You know her?! And you were, what?! Desperate?! Late night boner, and no one else was around?!”

“No! No! It was her daughter! Twenty-three! Jenny was dedicated to being a nun until I, ah, came along.”

“Oh, hell!” McCoy grimaced, then looked stunned at Kirk. “A nun?! You’re saying that she‘s a nun?!”

“Not anymore,” Kirk said with a sly grin of pride. “The last I heard, she was headed for Southern California in a converted school bus that had ‘Hippies for Humanity’ written on the sides and Indian blankets on the windows instead of glass. It’s real cozy inside.”

“And you would know this, because?”

“Well, I, ah, rode a few miles with them. Well, actually across the whole state of Kansas.”

“Oh, hell!”

“Kansas isn’t all that bad, Bones. I met some great people out there. It’s a lot of prairie that gets drier and higher the further West you go toward Colorado.”

“I mean, the hippie wagon! You spent time in a hippie wagon?!”

“It wasn’t like spending time in jail. In fact, it was sort of liberating. All of that free love and peace signs.”

“Save us, Jesus!”

“Now, you’re getting the idea!” Kirk said with a grin. “We had that sign, also.”

“Just what was this liberating experience like?” McCoy asked, knowing he’d hate himself for asking. But a strange sort of macabre interest had taken over his mind.

“Oh, we strummed a few songs. Passed out some love beads and flowers. Smoked some pot. Met some ranchers. Talked to some cows. They are brilliant conversationalists, by the way. Quite philosophical.“ 

“Cows?!”

“I referred to them as the patriarchs of the pasture set. They actually preferred it to some of the things that the cowboys call them.”


	2. Chapter 2

“How much weed were you on, anyway?!“ McCoy asked with awe. 

“Enough. Enough to go around, just like the love.”

“Cows? Philosophers of the plains?“

“Of course, none of the cows had college educations. Intellectually, they were probably about on the same level as Earth’s historic Stone Age peoples. And they tended to view their world in much the same way as Stone Age peoples did. Deities weren’t in the abstract to them. The cows tended to see ghosts and gods residing everywhere. In haystacks. In whatever trees there were. Gophers.“

“Gophers?“

“Oh, the cows loved gophers. Hated the holes they dug, but loved the little rascals, nonetheless. Liked to watch them scamper around. Thought the little guys were crazy, running around the way they do. Cows loved to sneak up behind them just to startle them and watch the gophers go berserk.” Kirk grinned. “Oh, those cows can be quite the cards, and that‘s a fact.“ He shook his head and grinned fondly. “I always thought that they only stood around chewing their cuds to aid in the digestive process. Turns out that they were using that time to appraise their world.” 

“Appraise their world?” McCoy echoed.

“That’s right. And it was a good world for them. Except when an empty stock truck came around. That threw fear into them. Cows knew if you went in that truck, you didn’t come back. And clouds. Clouds scared the hell out of them. The images in clouds were always changing. That meant that the sky gods were in turmoil, and only bad things came from that. And the cows were right. Generally, roiling clouds meant that a helluva storm was on its way. You’ve never seen a thunderstorm until you’ve been in one in western Kansas. All of that sky presses down on you anyway, then have a thunderstorm building up all around you is really oppressive. It’s everywhere but directly under your feet. That’s why you’ll see cows throw their tails up and start bucking around before a storm. They are trying to convince the sky clouds that they know that something bad was coming, that the cows weren‘t being fooled. And you know what? The cows were always right.”

“I can’t believe that I’m even in this conversation,“ McCoy mumbled. “Here, in outer space, I’m discussing cows in Kansas. And life in a hippie wagon.”

“We did the whole scene. Like cool, man. Crazy digs. Crazy chicks.”

“You and the cows?” McCoy asked with incredulity.

“No!” Kirk answered with amazed tolerance on his face. “Jenny and the other girls in the hippie bus. The cows stayed in their pastures." He frowned. "How could you get all of that so mixed up?”

“It might surprise you, but right now it's really easy to do." McCoy closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. "Hippies! How come I feel like I’ve gone back in time to the Twentieth Century? Were you thinking of joining a cult out in Southern California?”

“Like the vacationer said, it was a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there. No, my home is with Star Fleet.”

“Star Fleet is headquartered in California. Well, actually, San Francisco.”

Kirk gave him a lazy smile. “Alright. You sold me. Let’s go to Southern California. Jenny and the other ladies would welcome us with open arms, and whatever else they thought we might like to have opened for our use.”

“This is all a very charming story, but I don’t know what this has to do with anything.”

“The drugs. The pot.”

“It’s been legalized for years. There‘s a permanent haze over the United States, or hadn‘t you noticed?”

“Not the illegal hallucinogenic drugs that have been flooding Southern California and other parts of Earth, especially Europe, during the past few years. They’re from outer space.”

“And that’s where we come in.”

“And that’s where we come in.” Kirk slapped McCoy’s arm. “Thanks, Bones, for joining the team.”

“I don’t recall that I had. But I supposed that somebody needs to keep you from compromising more nuns.”

“The Little Sisters of the Gentle Rain,” Kirk said with a tender smile. “The ladies will appreciate it.” 

“That was the name of their order? It’s rather obscure, if it is. I‘ve never heard of it.”

“It’s the name of their band. Jenny and Cindy and the other girls. They sang folk songs at love-ins. Paid for their expenses that way. And, ah, others ways. Those cowboys out on the American prairie get lonesome, looking at all those cows and dreaming of, ah, females of their own species, not just the bovine variety.”

McCoy looked at Kirk suspiciously. “There were no guys on this ‘Hippies for Humanity’ bus, were there?”

“Just me, when I was aboard.”

“Oh, hell,” McCoy softly swore. “Before long, is there going to be a busload of women raising a bunch of blonde haired kids the same age who have flirty, crooked grins and bedroom eyes to die for?”

“There’s a really good chance.”

“I don’t know how you do it, Jim. Aren’t you spreading yourself rather thin?”

Kirk gave him a lazy smile. “Oh, there’s enough of me to go around.”

McCoy took a deep breath as he shook his head. “And enough indulgent people to let you get away with it.”

“They don’t mind, Bones. A lot of the times, they are propositioning me.“ Kirk cupped his hand and gently patted McCoy’s face. “And I try to make it worth their while.”

“I just bet you do,“ McCoy muttered. “You could get by with murder, and nobody would accuse you of it.”

“Comes in handy, Bones.”

“You know, with charismatic skills like that, you should be a politician.”

Kirk turned away, almost in disgust. “Please, Bones, even I have more principles than that. Just being around those people bothers me. I don’t know if any of them has told the truth in years. I don’t know if any of them would recognize the truth if they came face to face with it. It’d probably cause them to break out in a rash or something.”

“That’s why you don’t want a desk job in Star Fleet?”

“One reason,” Kirk answered, turning back to face McCoy. “Plus, I know too many of them on a, ah, personal level.”

McCoy nodded. “The commander’s family, for starters.”

“Hmm,” Kirk replied. “The commander’s wife really is fifty-one years old.”

“And you would know this, how?”

Kirk looked sheepish. “Well, it turns out that I had known her, ah, at one time.”

McCoy stopped and stared at him. “You had the daughter AND the mother?! How about the kid sister?!”

“There isn’t a kid sister. Just, ah, a kid brother. Twenty. Blonde. Crooked grin. Stanford. Oceanography major. Braden.” Kirk smirked. “Braden is quite the guy. He likes to swim nude in the ocean.”

“I don’t even want to know how you know all of this.” He frowned at Kirk. “Do I?”

Kirk tried to look innocent by simply shrugging. 

McCoy sighed. “It’s a wonder you’re still in Star Fleet. Anyone else would’ve needed some incriminating evidence on the commander to have gone through his family the way that you have done.”

“Well. There is something else. With another family member.”

McCoy stopped and stared at him. 

“When I was a cadet, the commander took an interest in me. And then, right before I met you--”

“The commander? The commander?! Is this what you’re telling me?! The commander had you?!”

“In every sense of the expression.”

“What is it with you?! The whole family?! The WHOLE family?! Where do you find the energy?!”

Kirk gave him a ’what can I tell you’ look and shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a great bottom.”

“Yeah, and you’ve got a great bottom,” McCoy conceded with exasperation.

“Why, thank you, Bones. I didn’t know that you had noticed.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed. But it’s kind of difficult getting to see it with all the other guys standing around craning their necks and blocking the view.”

“Of course, with Braden, he is the bottom. Now his mother likes to be in charge, so--”

McCoy held up his hand. “Too much information.”

“I thought you were a detail kind of guy.”

“Sometimes, but you‘re burning out my circuits. Too many images. I can‘t process them all.”

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault. It‘s just my country boy mentality. So, when you visit the commander’s home for the weekend--”

“Yeah?”

“Where do you sleep? Or should I say, with which one do you sleep?”

“Who sleeps? It generally takes me two days to get over my weekend ‘vacation’ with that family.”

“Oh, hell, Jim! Hell!” He stared at his unapologetic friend. “Where DO you find the energy?! You’d give a guy enough material to have wet dreams for several months.”

“Well, I hope I don’t keep you sidetracked for that long.” He slapped McCoy’s arm. “So, I’ll be letting you know details about our assignment. And welcome aboard.”

And Kirk left McCoy still trying to figure out the logistics of a Jim Kirk weekend with the commander’s family.


	3. Chapter 3

“Bones! Glad you could join us!”

“Yeah, yeah,” McCoy mumbled as he entered Kirk’s quarters. He stopped in his usual place, at Spock’s side. “Oh, you’re here, too, huh?”

“Good morning to you, too, Doctor McCoy,” Spock answered, noncommittally. 

“Yeah, yeah, good morning to you and all of that happy horse--”

“Bones, did we get up on the wrong side of the side of the bed again?” Kirk inquired.

“Perhaps there is no wrong side, Captain, if his bed is round.” Spock wisely smirked at Kirk and got an answering grin from him.

McCoy glanced at the smug, self-serving face beside him. "You're just eating Kirk's crap all up, aren't you? And you're probably a morning person, to boot!"

"As your own Benjamin Franklin said so appropriately, Doctor, 'Early to bed, early to rise--'"

“Yeah, yeah, I know what Franklin said! What is this? Jump on McCoy Day aboard the USS Enterprise?! And nobody told me?!” McCoy glanced at Spock. “How did he suck you into this mess? Promise you your own planet? Somewhere close to its own sun so you could savor all of that scorched earth and arid wasteland that means home to you? Or did Kirk guarantee that the Enterprise would never run out of your favorite brand of chocolate? We might run out of steak maybe or even soda crackers, but never chocolate? He must’ve met all of your stipulations, though. Because here we are, you and I, together again.” He shivered as if he was thrilled beyond words. “Just as cozy as ever.”

“Unhappily, Doctor, I could not get everything I requested; no. Because, as you say, here we are, you and I, together again.”

McCoy gave him an exaggerated, over-sweet smile. “Just a vision of charm and effervescence as always, aren’t you? How do you ever manage to beat off the adoring throngs? It must be a terrible trial to you, all of that popularity.”

Spock finally favored McCoy with a look, but it was a withering, haughty look. “And might I say that you appear to be as optimistic and warmhearted as ever? I notice that you are managing your avid popularity nicely, also. Are you having any current problem with teenagers professing undying love for you and threatening suicide if you intend to neglect their attentions further?”

“Pleasure to serve with you, too, you green-blooded--” McCoy growled.

“Bones, we’re wasting time!”

“Not me. I’m getting in some zingers. Captain. And the alien isn‘t doing too badly, either. I think we’ve both been saving them up, and now we‘ll have a wonderful opportunity to level them at each other. We both owe you a debt of thanks.”

Spock gave McCoy a bored look and turned away.

“With our space pirates, Bones. We‘re wasting time, getting our space pirates.”

“Oh, I have a feeling that they’re still out there, Jim. And getting bolder and more cocksure every moment.”

“That is one thing I could agree with. As assuredly, Mr. Spock could, also.”

“Assuredly so, Captain.” Spock turned toward McCoy again. “You have a succinct appraisal of the situation, Doctor. Let me be the second to congratulate you.”

“I’d feel better if the appraisal wasn’t so obvious. I’d also feel better if you didn’t agree with me at all, Mr. Spock.”

“Oh, I generally acknowledge clever deductions, Doctor, especially when they are coming from you.”

“You rarely have anything good to say about my reasoning prowess!”

“I rest my case, Doctor,” Spock said smugly. 

“Maybe I do have a round bed,” McCoy muttered to himself. “Or I woke up in an insane asylum.”

“I hope you won’t have that same feeling when you find out our cover for this operation.”

“What cover?” McCoy thought. “An insane asylum?!”

“At least,” Kirk murmured.

“Is there still time to transfer to another Starship?” McCoy mumbled.

“Doctor, I assure you,” Spock said dryly. “If there had been any possibly for your transfer, I would have gladly seen to it by now.”

“Thanks, Spock,” McCoy snipped. “You’re all heart. Wherever in the hell it is.”

“It’s the tension between you two that made me decide to choose you two for this assignment. Besides the fact that you‘re my best friends, of course.”

“Will we still want to be your best friends when this is all over?” McCoy wanted to know.

“Well, now, that might be up in the air,” Kirk answered. “You see, it’ll take two people who have a helluva time getting along, but have to be together, anyway. Do you have any idea why the combination of you two immediately came to my mind?”

McCoy glanced at Spock and saw that for once they were feeling the same way.

McCoy frowned. “This is starting to sound shadier the more I hear about it.” He crossed his arms. “Suppose you start filling us in about this assignment you’ve gotten yourself in and decided to drag your friends along to share in the merry mess.”

“Well, it all hinges on our cover story,” Kirk explained.

“Perhaps it is time that you enlighten us as to what our ‘cover story’ is going to be.”

“Well, Mr. Spock, I guess it’s more of a disguise than a cover.”

“In other words, we’re going to be the inmates in the asylum instead of the ones in charge.”

“Bones, you don’t know how close to the truth you are.”

“Something tells me, Spock, that we’re not going to be bored for awhile,” McCoy grumbled.

Spock, for once, agreed with the good doctor, but did not let him know that.

 

And bored they weren’t.

“I never thought that I’d be having to go back to school at my age!” McCoy complained as he rubbed his aching feet.

“Just think of it as obtaining new skills, Bones. You’re learning to be a ballroom dancer.”

“If it was the cha-cha or the rumba, it’d make sense! But the flamenco and the apache dances?! Hot, exotic dances from the lower dregs of European life?“

“Now, you can say that of the French danse apache. It’s a pantomime of a pimp and a prostitute in Paris with mock slaps and punches. The man picks up and throws the woman to the ground or carries her around. It‘s very physical.“

McCoy touched his back. “I know. I’ve got the bruises to show it. I think that Spock is enjoying slamming me around.“

“That’s why he’s had to learn to time everything so you aren’t harmed. And it‘s dangerous for him, because he has to be tossing you around. The flamenco is more elegant.“

“But it’s associated with the Romani people in Spain. To laypeople, that's Gypsies. What are we going to be?” McCoy joked. “Gypsies?!”

“Oh, Bones, once again, you don’t know how close to the truth you are.”

“And how come you aren’t learning the dances? How come it’s just Spock and me?”

“Well, I’m the master of ceremonies, and I’m in charge of music.”

“You’ll announce us and turn on a recording device! How tough can that be?!”

“Ah, but I have to decide when to turn on the music!”

McCoy looked disgruntled. “Your story is mighty thin, Kirk. Don’t you think it’s about time that you shared with Spock and me just what is going on? We do have a vested interest, you know. With the flamenco, we’re the two out there stomping our little hearts out. And in the meanwhile, we’re jarring the hell out of our spines and internal organs. Not to mention the pressure all of that dancing is causing to our kidneys and bladders. A word of caution: don’t ever go onto the dance floor with a full bladder. You’ll wish you hadn’t.”

Kirk grinned. “That sounds like something you’d do just once.”

“That’s right. Luckily, Spock and I shared that experience at the first rehearsal, and we had to take an emergency break.”

“Then you shared in a group, ah--”

“Yeah. A group, ah. We were real good buddies, then. You would've been proud of how well we were getting along. But we had urgent business. Believe me, we wouldn’t have minded who we were standing beside. The Pope. A Romulan. Male goats who could rear up on their hind legs to take care of business. As long as they are paying attention to their business and not ours. At that point in the proceedings, your thoughts are rather basic. And what is on hand and in hand to deal with.”

“Ouch!” Kirk groaned. “I’d share most things with you and Spock, Bones, but I’m kind of glad that I missed out on that little adventure.”

“It wasn’t so little at the time. It had been, in fact, rather pressing.”

“I can imagine. Anyway, do you guys think that you are sufficiently proficient in your ethnic dances to convince an audience of your skills?”

“Say, what?!” McCoy yipped. “You sneaked that information in a little too smoothly, Kirk! After so much hedging around, you unloaded that fact sort of fast!”

Kirk shrugged. “You’re the one who’s been wanting to know more about our assignment.”

“Yeah, but a little at a time. It’s either feast or famine with you lately!”

Kirk smiled benignly. “Well, guys, our little dance group is about to hit the show biz road!”

McCoy glanced at Spock. “Something tells me that this isn’t going to be the way that Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire reached the big time.”

Spock gave a noncommittal shrug.


	4. Chapter 4

“What is this traveling show again?” McCoy wanted to know as they bounced along the dusty road in the old powder blue Volkswagen. 

“A small carnival traveling from town to town in Europe,” Kirk answered as he followed the slow truck in front of him.

“It’s a damn Gypsy caravan, and you know it!” McCoy barked.

“Then why did you ask?” Kirk wondered aloud. He was starting to feel like McCoy‘s straight man.

“He does have a point, Doctor,” Spock said as he sat stoically up front with Kirk.

McCoy was in the backseat surrounded by their gear that they couldn’t get crammed into the trunk in front. He was very aware of being seated close to the car's engine. “It’s hotter than the hubs of hell back here!” he grumbled.

“It won’t be long until we are in the next town,” Kirk soothed. “And then you can take a nice warm shower and sit somewhere in the shade.” He glanced around at the treeless plain surrounding them. “Surely, people in this hot climate have figured out to plant trees so relief can be gotten somewhere.”

“The Vulcan should be sitting back here,” McCoy growled. “That cold ass of his would appreciate sitting on top of this blast furnace!”

“Doctor, I volunteered to sit back there, if you recall, but you did not wish to be so close to the ‘action’ of Jim’s driving. You said that you would rather not see the impending accident hurtling toward you that was going to kill you. I find the Captain’s maneuvering to be quite stimulating and fascinating, actually. Rather like what a pin in a pinball machine must experience, I suppose. Jim is quite agile with his driving skills.”

“And I suppose that if Jim misses a curve and sends us hurtling down the side of a sheer drop, you will sit calmly and watch as the abyss comes zooming closer and closer to your regal nose. And all the while, you will be marveling at how quickly the scenery is changing vertically.”

“Most assuredly. You will be taking care of all the screaming for all of us, anyway, Doctor. That will free me up to appreciate Nature for one final time.”

“Damn straight, I’ll be screaming! I’ll want someone with some sense to be making a statement about the stupid waste of our lives! I‘ll leave the enjoyment of the aesthetics to you!”

“Guys,” Kirk protested. “Wanna knock it off? I’m trying to concentrate. Fun’s fun, and all, but those drops do come awfully close to the edge of the road sometimes.”

“Oh, hell, maybe it isn’t a good thing not to see what’s coming,” McCoy muttered. “I’ll just sit back here with my eyes closed.”

“That would be helpful for all concerned,” Kirk agreed. “Rest would be good for all of us.”

The quiet lasted just a few moments.

“Oh, hell, this isn’t any good, either,” McCoy muttered. “My imagination is giving me all sorts of images. Steep ravines. Bottomless crevices.”

“Do you have any tranquilizers on your person, Spock?”

“Why, yes, Captain, I do. Do you wish them for yourself or for Dr. McCoy?”

“It’s a tossup. But one of us has to have some relief.”

“I have enough for three.“ Spock sighed. “Thank goodness.”

Kirk glimpsed in the rear view mirror at McCoy. “Besides, Bones, as the designated ‘woman’ of our little group, you are supposed to be demure and not seen. That’s why you get the back seat.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” McCoy grumbled as he tossed dark curls of his wig back over his shoulder. “I don’t know why I can’t be an enlightened gypsy, though, and wear slacks. This full skirt is bulky to maneuver. And just plain dangerous if the wind is blowing. All of the mystery about me might be over in a sudden puff of wind. Everyone in sight might learn the truth about ‘Madame Lolita.’”

“Now you know how women feel wearing skirts.”

“You know, Jim, that was never a burning issue for me. I don’t need to know what women feel in any given situation. I could have gone my whole life and not worn a full skirt in the backseat of an old Volkswagen on a dusty back road in western Europe! Something like that was never on my bucket list!”

“Well, if it was, you can happily check that experience off! You can say that you‘ve been there and done that!”

“Well, another thing I don’t need to wait to check off is being romanced by a Romani man with the hots for me!”

“Jerome seems harmless, Bones.”

“That’s because he isn’t after you and what‘s under your skirt!”

“May I remind you that I am not wearing a skirt?”

“Well, it sure as hell wasn’t my idea to be wearing one, either! I didn’t want to attract the attention of a man in hyper drive!”

“Don’t worry about him. Besides, that wife of his acts like she’d castrate him if he got too adventuresome with another woman.”

“Maybe I should make Letitia my new best friend. We ‘girls’ could compare all sorts of notes. Mood swings. Monthlies. The bastards that you men can be. You know, girl talk. And she would keep me safe from Jerome.”

“That’s what Spock, ah, Stephano, your dancing partner, is for. To protect you.”

“Well, pardon me if I don’t feel very safe with him. I’ll go with Letitia and her wicked knife, any day. Now, if you gentlemen will excess me, I‘m going to rest my eyes and try to make the best of a bad situation.”

“That’s what we’re all trying to do, Bones.”

“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was Spock talking. Sure, your mouth is moving, but you sure as hell sound like his carping!”

“Go to sleep, Bones.”

But McCoy didn’t. He was thinking of the angst he’d been feeling ever since he’d learned that he would be doing very physical dances with Spock. Even though he’d snorted about it, though, he’d secretly relished the idea of been handled by Spock. He still slipped in cutting remarks about the intimate situation, but that was so Spock didn’t realize how much McCoy enjoyed Spock‘s hands on his body. The Vulcan’s hands were so competent and so sure that McCoy had complete faith in him. And the sensations that shot through McCoy were an added bonus he didn't want to lose.

McCoy decided to let his skirts work in his favor. He wadded them up and sat on them, thus providing insulation from the heated seat and baring his legs to the circulating air. He relaxed with a sigh. Much better! The air around his legs was much cooler.

A mile or so later, Spock and Kirk glanced at each other, then both simultaneously rolled down their windows.

“Hey!” McCoy complained. “That wind is too strong! And it's too dusty!”

“Sorry, Bones, but the air from back there was a little too fragrant for our noses.”

“Are you two insinuating that I stink?!”

“I believe that we are more than insinuating, Doctor,” Spock replied in a tired voice.

“Well, excuse me for living,” McCoy muttered and drew some of his hot skirts back around himself.

“Not much improvement, Bones.”

“Tell you what. I’ll roll down these back windows a little. Then I’ll be able to ventilate myself adequately, and you dainty creatures up front with your sensitive noses will be able to survive in your hothouse environment.”

So that was what he did. He rolled the two windows down a little on either side of him, and the other two rolled their windows most of the way up.

“You’d think that by the Twenty-Third Century, even this part of Europe would have air conditioning in their vehicles. What corner of hell are we in again, Kirk?”

“Give it a rest, Bones. This time, take a real nap.”

That might not be such a bad idea, McCoy decided. It was rather pleasant back here, even though he wouldn’t admit it. He might even be able to doze, which he then proceeded to do.

At one point Spock turned to say something to McCoy, stopped in mid-sentence, and promptly looked forward again with a startled face.

“Captain, I recommend that you do not look in the backseat, not for any reason.”

“Why?” Kirk asked, puzzled.

“I prefer that the driver of the vehicle in which I am riding not to be struck blind.”

“What?!” Kirk stared at Spock.

“Dr. McCoy is in quite a state of undress.”

It was at this point that McCoy began to awaken, and he became curious about the topic of his companions’ earnest conversation.

“Captain, I believe that the doctor has fallen asleep and has allowed his skirt to billow and his knees to spread wide apart. When I turned, the sight of what I saw quite startled me. I feared that the power of the spectacle would be similar to that of the Gorgon.”

“The woman with snakes in her hair? The sight of which blinded men?”

“Yes, that woman.”

“But there’s no snakes in the backseat. Only Dr. McCoy.”

“Oh, there is at least one snake back there. It is halfway hidden, but still visible. Quite small, in fact, if I wished to be brutally honest.”

“Hey!” McCoy protested, but pulled his skirts back around his legs.

Puzzled, Kirk glanced at the Vulcan and saw a very satisfied look on Spock’s face.

“Spock,” Kirk mumbled so McCoy wouldn‘t hear. “You took a long time to set that up, didn‘t you?”

“To whatever are you referring?”

“You’re gloating.”

“Yes, Captain.” But the placid look remained in place.

“That’s an emotion, Spock.”

“I am well aware of that, Captain.”

“And still?”

“When dealing with Dr. McCoy, any skirmish won is worth any amount of principle lost.”

“Dealing with Dr. McCoy? Or dueling with him?”

Spock’s eyes twinkled as he looked at Kirk. “Oh, Captain, you know me so well.”


	5. Chapter 5

Jim Kirk, dressed in the rough clothing of the peasants in the area, took the stage. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, for your entertainment pleasure! I am pleased to present Madame Lolita and Stephano doing the classic flamenco!”

The flamenco music started and ’Stephano’ came stomping out, clicking his heels in time to the music. Spock was dressed in body-hugging black slacks and a long-sleeved white shirt open to the waist. A mass of black chest hair could be seen framed by the white of the shirt and the black of the embroidery-edged vest over the shirt. A flat-crowned black hat with red pom-poms hanging off the brim was secured to his head with a string drawn tightly under his chin. A scarlet scarf was tied around his waist and its two ends hung nearly to his right knee. His dark hair and dark eyes along with his swarthy complexion added to the validity of a Romani background for him. His steely-eyed concentration held the attention of everyone watching him as he stomped and clapped through the intricate steps.

Then the gypsy’s lady appeared. Leonard McCoy had made his appearance as ‘Madame Lolita,‘ and the audience collectively sighed. A long, slender figure was sheathed in a form fitting red dress that hugged the torso and hips before it flared at the knees and cascaded to the floor in tier after tier of white edged black ruffles. Tight red sleeves ended at the elbows with matching black ruffles edged in white. The ‘lady’ had black hair swept back to the nape of ’her’ neck in a low chignon, except for two massive spit curls slashed across highly rouged cheekbones. Large, dramatic eyes were made more so by heavy applications of mascara and eyeliner. An elegant tortoise-shell comb highlighted the crown of the head. ‘Gold’ gypsy coins cascaded across ‘her’ bosom and swayed and bounced with every stomp and quick twist of the lithe body. All were spellbound by her mystique and commanding presence.

Madame Lolita pranced and dared, forward and back, enticing, denying, cajoling Stephano as she swayed and swooped around and beside her male counterpart. It was blatant sex in a refined package. In many ways, it was more sensuous than nudes cavorting in an oncoming tide.

Then the couple began to ‘court’ in earnest with elegant swoops and sways and stomping feet. The temperature of the room increased as the music gained momentum, and the movements of the couple swaying to the music became faster and faster.

Dramatically, the music ceased with the couple frozen in a stylized pose wrapped around each other with one hand pointing upward and one arm trailing their bodies.

The room erupted with applause and shouts of an encore. But Kirk could tell that his ‘couple’ were exhausted. They were like quarter horses: good for the fast sprint, but not equipped to withstand long distances at a steady pace.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Kirk announced. “Madame Lolita! And her Stephano!” Then he ushered them backstage.

“Great work!” Kirk whispered to both of them. “Now get to the dressing room before your admirers show up!”

“Captain Pierce!”

“Too late,” Kirk muttered. “Shoo! Shoo!” he told his stars. “Jerome!” Kirk greeted as he spun to head off the gypsy.

“Captain! I must see Madame Lolita!”

“Alas, she is exhausted. She must go to her dressing room.”

“But such beauty! Such grace! Such attitude! She commands all! I would gladly be an admirer at her feet!” Jerome leaned toward Kirk with a lewd look on his face. “Such sex appeal! I must have her! She must be like Vesuvius! I must taste her wares!”

“Oh, that’s going to be pretty difficult to do, Jerome,” Kirk informed him. Real difficult, Kirk thought, since McCoy did not possess a working vagina. And Kirk figured that was probably pretty much of a priority for a man like Jerome. Kirk doubted if Jerome was ‘a backdoor man.’ Despite his heritage, Jerome was probably an advocate of the missionary position, also. A traditionalist, all the way. He liked women. Period.

“But you and Stephano must not keep a beauty such as Lolita as your own! You must let her make her own choices.”

“Oh, I think she’s pretty much doing that,” Kirk assured Jerome. “Come! Let us go see the rest of the show!” he said, skillfully leading Jerome away.

 

After a rest, McCoy wanted some privacy in the form of a walk, but Spock objected. 

“Spock, I think that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself!”

“Doctor, you should not be hasty.”

“All I want is to get some fresh air. On my own.”

“That might not be prudent. The streets are not always safe for a woman at night.”

McCoy bit his lips. “Spock. Do I need to remind you of a simple fact that seems to have escaped you?! I am not a woman.”

“Doctor. To the other eyes out there which you will encounter, you are a woman. You are dressed like a woman. You, ah, look like a woman. You are very fetching, in fact.”

McCoy looked a little flirty. “You think that I make a pretty woman?”

“Well, there are times, when the light catches you just right, that you are indeed beautiful.”

“Why, Spock. I didn’t know you cared.”

“Noticing is one thing, Doctor. Caring is another.”

McCoy froze up. “You’re sure as hell right about that one!” he declared and flounced toward the door and flung it open.

“Doctor. It is inadvisable for you to leave--”

“Don’t care! Go to hell! Blow it out your ditty bag!”

Spock frowned. “My ditty bag? Where, or what, is my ditty bag?”

McCoy merely waved his hand in the air as he disappeared down the hallway.

Outside, on the street, McCoy walked purposefully with powerful, manly steps. He noticed odd looks in his direction by both men and women. Then he remembered. Dr. Leonard McCoy wasn’t strolling along the boulevard. Madame Lolita was taking an evening constitutional. Therefore, McCoy slowed his forward motion and shortened his steps. He demurely bid a good evening to several women and remembered to avert his eyes downward so he would not seem brazen to men he met.

All was going well and McCoy was rather pleased with himself until suddenly Jerome was there.

“Madame Lolita!”

McCoy plunged off to his right, with Jerome hot on his heels.

“Madame Lolita! I must have a word!”

A word probably wasn’t what Jerome really wanted, and McCoy realized it.

“I really must be on my way,” McCoy mumbled.

“But, Madame, my heart is inflamed!”

“A hot heart isn’t what I’m worried about. It’s a heat further south of your heart that has me worried.”

McCoy had no idea if Jerome was really hearing what he was saying, but suddenly he was grabbed and wrapped securely in Jerome’s sweaty arms. His breath stunk of wine and tobacco, and McCoy was unimpressed since he was in such close proximity of either smell.

“My darling! At last!”

“Let me go!” McCoy demanded as he struggled. “You dumb ox! Stop it! Stop that damn groping!”

“No! Never! I will make you mine tonight!”

“If you try it, you’re in for one helluva surprise!” McCoy warned.

“Ah, ha! The fire! The pepper pot!”

“There’s only one person who gets away with calling me a pepper pot, and you aren’t him!” McCoy mustered his strength and sent Jerome spinning away.

“Oh, ho, a little spitfire!” Jerome declared as he stalked toward McCoy. “I must teach you a lesson in respect before I have you! I will blister your thighs with my hands before I plunge between them with my mighty saber!”

McCoy crouched and turned as Jerome turned so his back was never exposed. “You better keep that mighty saber sheathed, if you know what’s good for you,” he growled. Then inspiration hit him. “If Stephano hears of your lusts and what you proposed doing to me, you will rue your birth!”

“Bah! Stephano!” Jerome made a spitting motion. “I spit on your Stephano! He is nothing! Nothing! Nothing but a flamenco dancer!”

“That’s a helluva lot more than you are! You’re living on your wife’s fortune telling skills!”

Jerome straightened. “You insult me! I am a Romani man! I guard what is mine! I guard my woman!”

“Then why aren’t you doing it, instead of prancing around me like a he-goat in heat?! Go home to Letitia before she finds out about this backsliding of yours and uses that knife of hers to change your mind from ass to grass!”

Jerome frowned as he stopped. “What?”

“American expression,” McCoy mumbled. “It has to do with changing a young bull into nothing but a steer. And in doing so, he forgets all about the female of the species. All he wants to eat after that is pasture.”

“That does not seem fair to the young bull.”

“Come on, Jerome! You’re a country boy! You surely know that it’s steers that head for the dinner table, not bulls. If not, I would’ve thought that Letitia would’ve explained the concept to you before now.”

Jerome shrugged. “Oh, that. It is like a love bite to other people.”

“Letitia’s knife is nothing but a love bite?! You people play rough, don’t you?”

Jerome leered at 'her.' "Oh, my lovely Lolita! You are about to find out how roughly we gypsies do play!"


	6. Chapter 6

“You better go somewhere and cool off,” McCoy advised.

Jerome crouched and came at McCoy again. “The only way I will cool off is in your arms, my teasing darling!” He made a lunge for McCoy and grabbed him.

Then ensued a fist fight and groping battle. Jerome was more concerned in handling McCoy’s private ’wares,’ and McCoy was interested in keeping the real state of his ‘wares’ hidden. McCoy was impeded by his skirts and tight blouse, so Jerome succeeded in touching things that he really shouldn’t have been feeling.

Oh, hell, McCoy thought. The brown stuff has hit the propeller now, for sure. I think that Jerome is through talking. Where’s a pissed off Vulcan when you need him?!

And just like that, Spock was there, pushing the fighters apart and crouching in front of McCoy in a protective stance. His face was twisted in a scowl, and he was growling and hissing at Jerome. Territorial alley cats would’ve been impressed with his performance.

Jerome stopped, stared at Spock, and blinked. “Stephano?” Jerome questioned. “Do you really care that much about her honor?”

Well, that was the wrong thing to ask Spock. Jerome could’ve hunted all night and not come up with anything that would’ve angered Spock more.

Spock’s eyes darkened a notch. He made a backward motion toward McCoy, and sparks flew out of his eyes. “Mine!” He was talking in sentences of one syllable, and that’s always a bad sign.

Jerome put up his hands and began backing. “Just having a little fun with Madame Lolita. You know what a tease a woman can be.”

That was not the thing to say to Spock, either. “Mine!” he declared again and made certain that he was still between McCoy and Jerome.

Jerome turned and ran away.

McCoy was straightening his clothing. “Well, thank you, Spock. Jerome wasn‘t taking ‘no’ for an answer. I don’t know about this ownership thing that you‘re claiming on me, but I certainly want to thank--”

Spock grabbed McCoy by the wrist and pulled him down the street, yelling and struggling.

“Hey! What the hell?!”

But Spock wasn’t answering, just dragging McCoy as unceremoniously as he could.

At the door to the hotel where they were staying, Spock released McCoy’s wrist.

“You! Inside! Stay!” he directed. “Do not leave!”

If McCoy had ever wanted to see an angry Vulcan, he was seeing one now. Spock had seemed to have lost control of a whole lot of his emotions, and none of them was nice.

It wasn’t half as pleasurable as McCoy had always thought it would be. He was getting a glimpse of the ancient Vulcans, and perhaps that was behavior that should stay in the distant past. There didn’t seem to be any medium road with Vulcans. All the way, or nothing.

McCoy turned and obeyed without a word, and he rubbed his wrist in silent protest as he flounced away from Spock.

 

“Okay, I’ve heard all about you two and what happened with Jerome. But it‘s over now. You have to dance tonight, and you can‘t be fighting.”

“Well, Jim, I made a stupid mistake, and I’ll admit that I was wrong. But Spock was acting like Macho Man protecting his woman.”

“Bones. That’s the way he is supposed to be acting.”

“Well, he doesn’t have to get into his role so heartily, does he? I‘ve heard about Method Acting, but this is ridiculous,” McCoy grumbled. “I’ll admit, Jerome was pretty adamant. And, I, ah, guess, I appreciate that Spock happened along. Hard telling where I‘d be right now, and the only one who might know for sure is Jerome.” 

“Okay,” Kirk said. “Glad that’s settled.”

“And the green guy is okay with everything?” McCoy asked, nodding toward Spock, as if Spock wasn’t sitting not two feet away from him.

Spock rolled his eyes, but didn’t answer.

“I think he’s okay, Bones. Now we’re moving on. We’re in a different town with a different dance to perform.”

“So now we’re supposed to be apache dancers?” McCoy asked.

“That’s right,” Kirk answered. “It‘s a dance of primitive passions. You two are going to do a great job.”

“I’m glad you have confidence in us,” McCoy mumbled.

“Meaning you don’t, Bones?”

“You can ask that?! After the flamenco?! I do tend to enflame men!”

“Granted, that did get a little out of hand.”

“A little out of hand?! I’m lucky I’m not chained inside a gypsy wagon, never to see the light of day again! Right now I could be a love slave to that Lothario Jerome!”

“That gypsy guy was a little interested in you, that’s true.”

“A little interested?! Wanna see the paw prints?! Boy, would he have ever been disappointed that my ‘bosoms’ weren’t the real thing! If it hadn’t been for Spock here, I’d be a gypsy princess by now!”

“Except Jerome was after a woman, and you obviously don’t have the necessary equipment.”

“I’m certain that wouldn’t have stopped him! Now I’d probably be sporting a working vagina, secretion capabilities and all. Gypsies probably know how to make those corrections. They know things, you know, that modern medicine hasn‘t figured out yet. Not that having a working vagina and experiencing what women feel wouldn’t be interesting. You know, just for general knowledge sake, mind you. Because I’ve always kind of wondered, like most guys have. But I do not want to lose the equipment I’d originally been issued! I wanna stay a guy! I’m kinda used to being a guy, you know?! I wanna leave this old world with all of that sort of thing intact, if that’s alright with everyone else!”

“I’m not blaming you on that point, Bones. I’m kind of partial to original factory issued equipment, myself.”

“Good! I’m glad that I don’t have to explain myself on that subject! I’m just lucky that Spock was around,” he repeated, just in case Spock hadn’t caught it the first few times he’d said it. 

If you’re eating crow, might as well eat the whole damn bird instead of nibbling around on a wing. Besides, Spock was the guy who was going to be slinging McCoy around in the apache dance. McCoy wanted Spock to be happy with his dance partner. McCoy didn’t want any suppressed emotions coming out at the wrong time.

“It worked perfectly since he was supposed to be your ‘Stephano’ and you were supposed to be his ‘Madame Lolita,’” Kirk said. “It was so romantic that he came roaring in to save his ‘lover.’”

“Is this the place where we’re supposed to marvel about life imitating art?”

“I’ll just make sure that Spock stays close to you from now on.”

McCoy looked disgusted. “I don’t know if either one of us will be too thrilled with that prospect. There‘s only so far that duty should go. Being my shadow shouldn‘t be required of a fellow Starfleet officer.”

“Maybe you two should rely on friendship then?” Kirk said pleasantly, but there was a thinly veiled suggestion of trying to get along that went with it.

“Well, what do you say about that, Mr. Spock?” McCoy asked, trying also to sound pleasant. But it was evident that McCoy wasn’t believing much in the possibility of anything like that remotely happening. Then he went and overplayed it. “Wanna be my guardian because we‘re such good buddies and all?”

Spock arched an elegant eyebrow even higher and breathed deeply as if he was being greatly put upon. Was the Vulcan actually enjoying his moment in the sun? Did he bask in being the center of attention? Didn’t that go against all of those high-flown principles he was supposed to embrace as a member of an enlightened race which looked down on mere Earthlings and their barbaric emotions?!

“Doesn’t exactly curl your hair for you, does it, Vulcan? Well, not that I blame you. I suppose that into every life some angst should happen, and I guess it’s just your turn.”

“It is falling into yours, also, Doctor,” Spock remarked, speaking at last.

“True, but you’re getting a double dose. First, the dancing and the danger from first the space pirates and now the gypsies. Then you have to be my guardian. Boy, life must be rough on you! Who did you piss off in the heavenly hierarchy?” he snapped sarcastically. “Tell you what. I’ll give you as much space as I can. Starting now. Who says I can’t be an old softie at heart?” He went wandering away.

“Sorry, Spock, he seemed to be singing your praises a few moments ago.“

“Everything seemed to be fine until I said something.“

“Noticed that, too, did you? I didn’t know things were that bad between you two.”

“I did not, either, Captain. Generally, I go my way and let him go his. When I stopped Jerome, I was following your orders.”

Kirk frowned. “Indifference? You generally treat McCoy indifferently?”

“I suppose.” Spock looked puzzled. “There is a problem with indifference?”

“Humans need interaction with other people, or they will die.”

“I did not realize the situation was so dire.”

“Maybe I did exaggerate it somewhat.”

“Somewhat? For a moment, I was calculating how many corpses I have unknowingly left in my wake without realizing my responsibility to the people they had once been. Clerks in stores who failed to turn my head to their wares to be sold. Would-be women who thought I was perfect husband material. Star Fleet cadets who failed to impress me with their prowess and dedication. I must have filled cemeteries.”

Kirk smirked. “You’re more like McCoy than you realize. That speech sounded like something he would say.”

“Perhaps it is already too late for me. It appears that I have been around Dr. McCoy too long.”

“I swear, Spock, use McCoy’s voice, and it’s like him talking.”

“It is too late for me. I am a goner.”

“Even slang that he would use!”

“Slang?! It is far worse than even I could have imagined!”

“Stop! Stop! You’re killing me! Mr. Spock-McCoy! There’s your new name!”

“If he and I were to marry, he would have to be Dr. McCoy-Spock. On that I would insist. I would be the dominant one of our couple.”

Kirk sobered. “Where did that come from?! I didn’t ask you to marry the guy, just watch out for him.”

“I may have to go to incredible lengths to do just that, Captain. Even marriage.”

“Let’s hope it wouldn’t come to that, Mr. Spock. I can’t imagine two more ill-mated marriage partners. It would be a match made in hell. Heaven wouldn’t want any part of it.”

“Indeed, Captain? Then perhaps Dr. McCoy and I should limit our acquaintanceship to the dance floor.”

That really wasn’t what Kirk had meant, but he thought that he shouldn’t try to clear up any more misconceptions. For some reason, that only seemed to make the situation worse.


	7. Chapter 7

“Do you guys know much about the members of the carnival?” Kirk asked Spock and McCoy the next day. “After all, you’ve had a chance to mingle with them a little by this time.”

“They seem to have been together for quite awhile,” McCoy replied. “They’re kind of like a little family. I’d really hate to see any of them being in league with the space pirates.”

“So would I, Bones, but they would have a perfect opportunity for being agents of the pirates, traveling around from town to town the way that they do.”

“That doesn’t make them bad people, just footloose.”

Kirk grinned. “Loyal as hell to them already, aren’t you?”

“Well, Mama Luigi makes great spaghetti sauce.”

“And shares it with you. And she’s got the figure to prove it.”

“Jim! She’s the circus fat lady! She’s supposed to be sporting a lot of tonnage on her bones!”

“I know. But the fat lady. She has no control of her eating.”

“Seems like you’re the pot calling the kettle black. You have a little problem with the old waistline, yourself.”

“And that’s what happens when your doctor happens to eat most of his meals with you. If I don’t overindulge, I feel like a martyr. And if I do, I not only feel guilty but I have you right there beside me, constantly harping about the perils of overweight. Why don’t you spread some of that concern to Mama Luigi?”

“I have. She’s been thinking of retiring, anyway. Going back to Italy where her nephew is still running the farm that’s been in the family for centuries.” He looked a little wistful. “Sounds great, doesn’t it? Vineyards on the hillside? Goats needing to be milked and cheeses made? Stews being cooked from home grown vegetables and sopped up with the local coarse bread?”

“You have been spending time with Mama Luigi.”

“I believe that she would adopt me, and right now, I’d be willing to go. I hurt all over from this dancing. Spock is using me for a human punching bag. I can‘t wait to get to those Lombardi hills. It sounds like Heaven on Earth. Nobody would beat me up there. Mama Luigi wouldn‘t let them.”

Spock looked disdainful and turned away.

“You wouldn’t last a month, Bones. You’d be bored crazy.”

“After these weeks with you guys and this dancing, I’d take a month of boredom!”

“Yeah, but then you’d miss us and beg us to take you back.”

“Maybe you, Jim,” McCoy muttered and shot a look at Spock. “Maybe I’d want to come back. To you.”

That got the disdainfully arched Vulcan eyebrow he’d been hoping for. Then McCoy settled back primly in his chair.

“How about the rest of the carnival?” Kirk asked.

“There’s Karl, the knife thrower,” McCoy answered and straightened again, losing his momentary self-satisfaction. “He doubles as the show’s strong man. He just changes from a leopard skin as strong man to gypsy attire as the knife thrower. He’s a crazy bastard. No hair on his scalp, but a huge mustache on his top lip. Build like a wrestler with the temper to go with it. Just my opinion, but someone with that short of a fuse on his emotions shouldn’t have access to knives, let alone be allowed to throw them around the way he does.” He glanced at Spock. “Karl is sort of the opposite of Spock here. Now I can see where control of one’s emotions might be a real plus. If we could just get some hybrid in between Spock and Karl, we might have someone normal.”

“Please, Doctor, do not make light of my struggles to control my emotions.”

McCoy let Kirk see his satisfaction of baiting Spock. McCoy had finally dug far enough down inside Spock to prompt a response from the Vulcan.

“And then, of course, there’s Jerome and the lovely Letitia,” McCoy offered. “Letitia is the fortune teller while Jerome is something of a roustabout. That’s when he isn’t trying to romance some lovely young lady, of course. I understand that he has had to leave towns in the dark of night to avoid local fathers and husbands. Why Letitia hangs onto to him is anybody’s guess.”

“She’s in love, Bones,” Kirk answered with a soft grin. “Love makes all sorts of allowances for shortcomings.”

“Please, Captain, say no more,” McCoy cautioned. “Or you’ll make the Vulcan sick! All of that sordid talk of love nauseates Spock.”

Spock glared at him. “How kind of you to take such a concern for my well-being, Doctor.”

“Well, you said it. I am your doctor.” McCoy got up and headed for the door.

Spock was immediately alert. “Where are you going, Doctor?”

“Out for a walk, if that’s alright with you!”

“I do not mind if you take a walk by yourself, but perhaps ‘Madame Lolita’ should have an escort.”

McCoy looked down at his skirts. Oh, hell, he’d forgotten about those! “That’s alright! I do not need an escort!” McCoy snipped. “It is broad daylight!” And with that, he whipped out the door with skirts flying.

“Captain--” Spock said with worry.

“Forget it, Spock. Sometime you just gotta let a woman do what she wants to do.”

That information didn’t seem to soothe Spock any.

“He’ll be okay, Spock. It’s daylight. We know that Jerome is busy. McCoy is a grown man. He can take care of himself.”

“You are assuming a lot, Captain.”

Was Spock just a little snippy there, Kirk wondered, but dismissed it.

 

McCoy walked along the street of the village, relishing the momentary freedom from Kirk and Spock and dancing and drugs and space pirates. It was wonderful just to be able to stroll along and hear the patter of normal life in the background: traffic, children playing somewhere, a dog barking. The sun was warm on his face, and life was agreeable.

Then McCoy gradually became aware of someone following him. Not closely, but near enough to be definite. He could almost see a person from the corner of his eye, but not quite enough to identify that person. He began to worry. Maybe he should have brought Spock along. The Vulcan could growl and hiss at whomever was bothering McCoy. That seemed to impress most people.

This is ridiculous! McCoy decided. He should just confront the person and find out what the person wanted. Yes, that’s what he’d do! He’d confront the person!

McCoy stopped with his face silhouetted against the light colored wall behind him. But there was no chance to turn. Suddenly a knife sliced through the air and came to a stop quivering in the wall not an inch from his nose.

“What the hell?!” he barked as he whirled around. He saw Karl and stomped toward him. “Why the hell are you throwing knives at me?! You just missed my nose!”

“If you had not been a woman, I would have sliced off the end of your nose. But beauty such as yours should not be ruined.”

“Well, thanks. I think.” He frowned. It was the first time that his ‘feminine’ beauty had caused someone to spare him an injury. “But why did you throw the knife at me?”

“We do not want you here!” Karl barked.

“We?! Who the hell is we?!”

“The carnival people.”

“So far, the only one who’s said anything against us has been you, and you let a knife do your talking. In fact, some of your people like us a lot.” He was thinking of Jerome and Mama Luigi.

“I talk for the ones who do not understand. Bad people will come next, and our carnival will be no more.”

McCoy felt compassion. “Karl, we are not trying to do that.”

“We are just an independent, little show. We are not good enough to be in big circuses, but we can still do this traveling around between small towns, scraping together a living. Because the country people do not require the best. Only the ones who are willing to come to them.”

“I can understand that.“

“There is nothing for Berta and me back in Germany. This little carnival is our life.“ 

“Believe me, Karl, we are not trying to destroy your way of life.”

“But why do you come among us?”

“Sometimes, people need a place to hide out for awhile, you know?” It wasn’t really a lie from McCoy, but maybe it was something that Karl could understand.

And he did. 

“We mean you no harm, Karl. We just need to be with you for a little while.” Still not a lie, but still not the truth, either.

“Alright, Madame Lolita.” He pulled his knife out of the wall and sheathed it. “I am sorry if I frightened you.” He held out his arm. “May I escort you back to your room?” he asked gallantly.

“Why, thank you,” McCoy answered demurely and accepted the ‘help’ that the gentleman was providing. “You are so kind.”

And so willing to abet me, McCoy thought. He couldn’t wait to see Spock’s face when he appeared on the arm of another attentive man. That ought to cause a few sparks to fly in those normally inscrutable eyes!

McCoy could be such a bitch!


	8. Chapter 8

“Bones! Guess who’s out in the audience?!”

“A Hollywood talent agent looking for a great apache dancing woman?”

Kirk frowned. “What?!”

“Never mind,” McCoy answered, disgruntled. “Every other answer I could come up with sounded terrible.” He breathed deeply. “Okay, I’ll play along. Who’s out in the audience, Captain Kirk?” he mocked. “The space pirates?”

“Jerome.”

That got rid of McCoy’s mirth. He grimaced. “Oh, hell! Jerome is supposed to be helping on the other side of town! When else would space pirates be the nicer option?” he muttered to himself. Then he looked back at Kirk. “Is Letitia out there, too?”

“I haven’t seen her.”

“Oh, hell,” McCoy muttered. “She’s the only one who can come close to handling him. The only other one is Spock. If he growls and hisses like a damn tom cat.”

At that moment, Spock appeared, looking worried. “Captain--”

“I know. Jerome.”

“There’s only one thing that I can see to do,” Kirk muttered.

“What’s that, Jim?”

“It’s time for Guillaumo to make an appearance.”

“Who?” McCoy questioned. Who the hell was Guillaumo?

“Come on!” Kirk ordered. “We’ve got some costume changes to make!”

 

A few minutes later, McCoy walked onstage dressed in the rough clothing that he‘d borrowed from a stagehand. The pants were a little big on him and made McCoy look like a street urchin. And smelled like one, also, but thankfully the audience wouldn’t be aware of the odors emanating off the clothing. Only McCoy. 

McCoy hoped he wouldn’t be recognized as ‘Madame Lolita.‘ True, he had never spoken to an audience, just danced. Still, there were his distinctive slender build and dainty face. But the cap pulled low over his eyes hid most of his face so his appearance was completely divorced from the sultry female dancer he generally portrayed.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Tonight we have a treat! By special request, we are proud to present Guillaumo and Madame Stephana!”

The apache music started and Kirk strolled out in the rough clothing he had worn as the master of ceremonies. So he hadn’t made much change except for makeup. Since he hadn’t taken the dance training as intensely as Spock and McCoy had done, he decided merely to walk around and let ‘Stephana’ do the main dancing. They wouldn’t have had a chance of substituting dancers if it had been the flamenco they were dancing. Kirk had never practiced the jarring heel stomping that the male flamenco dancer had to perform. Thankfully, Kirk would just be window dressing for Spock’s performance. 

Still, there were the acrobatic moves that the apache dance required. Kirk’s main problem was being able to sling Spock around without injuring him. It was a matter of timing and a controlled toss, that much Kirk realized from watching Spock throwing McCoy around. Sadly, he had never practiced the moves.

Then ‘Stephana’ made ‘her’ appearance, and McCoy mentally held his breath. After all, McCoy was the only one who had ever performed the woman’s part in the apache dance, never Spock. But tonight Spock would be the female apache dancer.

The woman’s cue came, and an elegant creature stepped out of the shadows. Even McCoy had to gasp with what stepped into the light, and he had seen ’her’ backstage. Haughty, sophisticated, Spock was a breath-taking vision in an off-the-shoulder blouse and a sheath black skirt with a slit running high up the left thigh. One would think that Spock should have born a woman, he was that lovely to behold. He was elegance and sexuality personified, the very picture of a desirable woman. And he was making the most of the image with his stage presence.

But a vision was one thing, a performer was another. The next few minutes would prove if Spock could pull off this erotic dance, or if the cover for all three of them would be in shambles.

Kirk stomped around the stage, but mainly watched Spock going through the intricate steps of the apache dance. Spock must have been studying McCoy closely to be able to improvise so cleverly. Who would’ve thought that Spock could unhinge to be that limber? Kirk probably had his heart in his throat as much as McCoy did and was as impressed with Spock as much as McCoy was.

Kirk managed to flip Spock back over his shoulder several times, and the two made the moves seem flawless and easy. Beginner’s luck, McCoy thought. Spock must be very trusting in Kirk, McCoy decided, just as McCoy trusted Spock to flip him just right. Then came the stylized face slapping by Spock and the blocking by Kirk. That took a lot of timing and trust, also. Once again, the maneuver was done beautifully.

Maybe, if Kirk and Spock were getting along so well, McCoy could just let them do the apache dance together from now on. But who was he kidding? McCoy would miss dancing with Spock. He hadn’t realized it up until now, but McCoy would miss that time together. In fact, he was rather jealous.

When the finale came and Kirk had to fling Spock across the floor, McCoy held his breath. This was the chanciest part of the dance, and timing had to be perfect for ‘Stephana’ not to be injured. McCoy and Spock had practiced until McCoy’s abdomen had felt bruised and scraped from sliding across the floor, but he and Spock had performed it flawlessly. Now, tonight, the maneuver would be attempted with no rehearsal, whatsoever. Hard telling where Spock would land and in what condition.

Kirk grabbed Spock by one foot and one hand and whirled him upside down in faster and faster circles. Careful, careful, McCoy prayed. Kirk, you could release Spock to slide headlong into furniture or the wall. Or people. Spock would be like a human bowling ball hurtling toward ten hard pins. There’s a reason why there’s so much noise when a bowling ball collides with ten pins, and this collision might be no exception. 

Kirk flung Spock, and McCoy cringed. Kirk had flung too hard, but Spock somehow slowed his speed. But not enough. Spock’s body flew into a table and chairs, sending some crashing to the floor. Spock rolled, though, and flipped to thrust one leg into the air just as he needed to do for the next part of the dance. Kirk sauntered up and lit his match on the sole of Spock’s up-flung shoe. The apache male was showing his contempt for the apache female. Then Kirk slunk offstage in uncaring male cockiness. 

Now, all that remained was for ‘Stephana’ to make ‘her’ exit. Spock seemed a little wobbly as he unceremoniously made his way to his feet. Although it wasn’t in the script, McCoy rushed forward and grabbed Spock’s arm to stop his weaving about. The Vulcan was clearly rattled and possibly injured.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Stephana! Let‘s hear it for the little lady!” Then, to thunderous applause, McCoy snaked an arm around Spock’s waist. “Lean on me!” he growled at Spock and led him offstage. What was worrisome was that Spock readily complied. Generally, he would push McCoy aside.

“Spock! Are you alright?!” Kirk demanded backstage as he raced up to them.

“He’s shaken, Jim.”

“Sorry, Spock,” Kirk muttered. “That maneuver is harder to time than it looks.”

“I’ll take him to the dressing room and check him out.” McCoy led Spock away.

“Guilluamo! I have not had the pleasure!”

Kirk turned to the voice and groaned inwardly. It was Jerome. 

Jerome looked at him oddly. “Have we met? You remind me of Captain Pierce.”

“My cousin,” Kirk said hastily.

“Odd, I had not met you before.”

“I’m rather reclusive.”

Then Jerome dismissed him. Jerome was interested in someone else as he looked around. “But where is the beautiful Stephana?”

“Oh, she had to go on to her dressing room. Diva, that she is.” Kirk tried to give a relaxed grin. “You know how women can be. Especially someone as temperamental as Stephana.”

“Oh, but I wanted to meet her. I tell you, Captain, I do not know how you do it! First Lolita and now Stephana! You must find it difficult to pick your favorite.”

“You got that right,” Kirk murmured, thinking of his two friends wanting him to say which of the two was more important to him.

“Pardon, Captain?”

“Nothing,” Kirk said smoothly with a warm smile. “Suppose we go sit at a table and drink some wine.”

“No Stephana for me tonight? No Lolita? No boom-boom?”

“No boom-boom,” Kirk shook his head sadly. “At least not with either of those ladies. Now, Letitia--”

“Oh, she is my wife! I can have her any time! But Sephana! Lolita! Such women! They are rare, indeed, among womankind!”

“That they are,” Kirk agreed amiably.

Then suddenly a female voice was heard screeching a demand. “What did I hear you say, Jerome?!” 

“Letitia! Darling!” Jerome gushed as he turned. “I did not know you were here!”

“Obviously!” Fire was blazing out of the Gypsy woman’s eyes. Bushels of black curly hair cascaded around her head and down around her bare shoulders. Golden earrings twinkled in her ears in true gypsy style as did her peasant blouse and bouffant skirt. “It may well be the last thing you know!”

“My little flower! How can you say such things?!” Jerome cajoled.

“Easily! Just as easily as you flit from flower to flower!”

“But I always come back to my sweet Letitia!”

“Yes! But with your man-parts reddened and exhausted!”

“Letitia! My darling! My own!”

“Ha! Wish I could say the same of you! I will find another man!” she declared with a defiant toss of her massive curls.

“If you folks will excuse me?” Kirk interjected as he stepped backwards. He doubted that either heard him. As urgent as his need to escape, though, he was intrigued how this little scene would play out. Kirk was such a voyeur at heart.

“Letitia, my pet. Let me buy us wine, and we speak no more of other men.”

“And other women?!”

“My sweet, I have needs.”

“I will cure you of your want for other needs!”

“Letitia! Sweetheart! You know how that inflames me to hear you talk like that!”

“Maybe I will let my knife cure you of other needs!”

“But, my pet. Then you would deprive two of us.”

With that undeniable logic ringing in his ears and creating images he did not wish to visualize, Kirk slipped into the shadows. The other two were not conscious of his disappearance.


	9. Chapter 9

“How is Spock doing?” Kirk asked as he ducked into their dressing room.

“Groggy,” McCoy answered as they both glanced at Spock sitting hunched over on the cot, eyes squeezed shut, swaying slightly. McCoy had managed to strip the dress off Spock and get a man’s shirt on him.

“How is he injured?” Kirk wanted to know. “I must’ve really beaten him up. He looks like hell.”

“Bruised ribs. Some may be cracked.”

Kirk frowned. “Rib injuries cause grogginess? I could understand difficulty in breathing, but grogginess--”

McCoy tried to say it as gently as he could. He knew that Kirk was already feeling awfully guilty. “There’s a possible concussion, too, Jim.”

“Concussion. Oh, hell! It’s a wonder he isn’t an inch shorter as hard as he hit that table and chairs.”

“You didn’t know, Jim. That maneuver takes practice, practice which you hadn’t had a chance to get. And Spock probably tensed some, also, when he took off so fast and saw the furniture headed his way. It would‘ve been difficult to have trusted you completely, the way I do him.”

Kirk couldn’t help but hear the admiration McCoy had for Spock‘s skill. He wanted to snap something back, but it all sounded defensive because he felt so guilty. “I figured that Spock had to have some speed built up before I released him.”

“You’re right. Spock needed to be tossed hard enough, or he would’ve scooted about two feet and simply stopped. There’s nothing dramatic about a two foot scoot.”

“Well, he must’ve looked pretty good during the performance,” Kirk mumbled. “Jerome came backstage, wanting to meet ’Stephana.’”

McCoy frowned. “Jerome wanted to meet Stephana?”

“Yep.”

“Jim! He wanted to do more than meet Stephana! I know! Or Lolita does!”

“Bones. Easy. Spock can take care of himself with Jerome.”

“I thought I could, too! Why does Jerome think he can even look at Spock that way?!”

“Bones. Easy. Spock was onstage. Dressed as a desirable woman. Jerome was looking at Stephana, not Spock. Remember? And Jerome was well within his rights to have sexual illusions about a desirable woman. It‘s done everyday, even about women not onstage.”

“I know. But it isn’t right! Trying to take advantage of an alien like that!”

“Bones. Jerome wasn’t after an alien. He was after an Earthling woman. And Spock is a helluva knockout in that dress, just like you are.”

“Oh. Well. I guess that’s right. But it still doesn’t make it right!”

“Bones. This isn’t helping Spock any.”

“Oh. Yeah. Spock,” McCoy muttered, remembering that Spock was now more injured than desirable. And his patient.

“Will he be alright, Bones?”

“With rest. If we were on the Enterprise, I could help him better.”

“We’ll leave immediately.”

“No, Captain,” Spock protested from the cot. “I will be alright. I do not wish to jeopardize the operation.”

Kirk glanced at McCoy who shrugged. “Let’s not rile him up, Jim.”

“I don’t know--”

“I’ll take care of him. Let’s get him back to our apartment. Here, grab the other arm and we‘ll hoist him up.”

So the three guys, all looking like guys again, left by the back door of the restaurant with Spock being supported between them.

Of course, they ran into Jerome and Letitia.

“Oh, hell,” McCoy swore under his breath. “The bastard better not be after our women.”

“What women?” Kirk whispered back. “All I see are us guys. Let me handle this. Madame Letitia! Jerome! Excuse us if we don’t visit.”

“Captain Pierce? Stephano?“ Jerome looked around. “But where are Guilluamo and the two ladies, Stephana and Lolita?” He looked at McCoy. “And who is this? I know he announced this evening, but who is he?”

“Oh, he is generally backstage,” Kirk explained. “And drunk.”

McCoy glared at Kirk.

“But he looks like Lolita when I see him up close,” Jerome said suspiciously.

“That’s because he is Lolita’s brother,” Jim Kirk explained.

“Lolita’s brother?” Jerome echoed.

“Her twin brother.”

“Twin brother?”

“Guido,” Kirk answered.

McCoy wanted to roll his eyes, but figured he shouldn’t. 

“Lolita’s drunken brother,” Jerome echoed.

“Yes.”

“Lolita’s drunken twin brother.”

“Yes,” Kirk affirmed. “Guido.”

“Hmm. I see. And where are the ladies?”

“They are with Guilluamo. They needed an escort on the streets at night.”

Jerome nodded at Spock. “And what is wrong with Stephano? He doesn‘t look so good.”

“He stole Guido’s bottle, and it went straight to his head. That‘s why he couldn‘t perform this evening. It made Lolita quite incensed when she discovered the state he was in. So incensed, in fact, that she could not perform, either.”

“Incensed,” Jerome echoed.

“Yes,” Kirk answered. “That’s so much worse than angered, at least with Lolita. Sometimes, just to teach Stephano and Guido a lesson, she starts drinking to show them how they look and act. Secretly, I think she just likes to drink.”

McCoy rolled his eyes again.

Jerome frowned. “It sounds as if you have quite a problem with alcohol with your troop, Captain Pierce.”

“Oh, yes, I do. It’s been quite a trial for me.”

“Well, Letitia and I will let you and--

“Guido.“

“Yes. Guido. We’ll let you see to Stephano. Take good care of him. I will wish to see him dance again. And soon. He is quite the artist.”

“He will be pleased that you feel that way,” Kirk said diplomatically as they moved down the darkened street.

“Guido, eh?” McCoy muttered.

“That’s right, Guido.”

“Lolita’s drunken brother Guido.”

“Correct.”

“How do you keep it all straight, Kirk?! I know that you’re making it up as you go, but still! It looks like you‘d get it all tangled up eventually.”

“I just have to remember what I’ve said. That’s the difficult part.”

“But think about it! We’ve got Guilluamo out there somewhere with Lolita and Stephana, keeping those ladies safe on the streets! And at the present moment, you are Captain Pierce, Spock is Stephano, and I am Guido! Jim, that’s six people who don’t even exist! Except in your mind!“

“And Jerome’s,“ Kirk reminded him.

“Soon, we’re going to be a small village, and it’ll only be the three of us!”

“Imagine what we could do if Sulu, Chekov, Scotty, Chapel, Uhura, and a bunch of red shirts were with us. We would have that small village then.”

“Hell, it’d be a town! You‘d lose track for sure then.”

“Then I’d develop absentmindedness, but I’d insist that Guido could keep it all straight.” He smiled sweetly. “Guido is so good with names.”

“Thanks lots, Jim! You’re all heart!”

“Well, here we are at the apartment,” Kirk said as he opened the door.

Kirk and McCoy steered the stumbling Spock inside and deposited him on his cot.

“Are you certain we shouldn’t go back to the Enterprise, Bones?”

“It’ll be alright. I know that you have that meeting about the space pirates.”

“Yeah, and I better get going.”

After Kirk left, McCoy stared at Spock slumped on the cot. “You aren’t going to sleep on me, are you?”

“It is my bedtime, Doctor,” Spock mumbled.

“Yeah, but not tonight. That’s for the times when you don’t have a possible concussion.” He frowned. “I know I did the best thing for Jim and his agenda by not taking you back to the ship. But did I do the best thing for you, my patient?”

“I will endeavor to stay awake, Doctor.”

Damn it, McCoy was starting to feel a little tired himself. He looked at his cot longingly. Then he glanced back at the Vulcan who was starting to fold in on himself and heading for the cot.

“Right! Come on, Spock! Time for our little walk!” He hauled Spock to his feet. Spock groaned in protest, and they began to make tight circles in the small apartment. That stumbling saunter continued for some moments as McCoy endeavored to hold himself and Spock upright.

“Doctor.”

“What?”

“This is no good, Doctor.”

“I know. But this is what we are going to do. Come on.”

“Wait,“ Spock protested as he stopped again. “I am beginning to feel the effects of going in small circles. I am beginning to feel quite dizzy. Is there not some other direction in this room?”

Punchy as hell, McCoy thought.

“Oh, hell! That‘s all I need is a dizzy, half-asleep patient with a possible head injury getting punchy on me!” McCoy pulled Spock to the window and opened it. “Breathe! Breathe deeply! Get some fresh air!”

Spock did, and then he began to cough.

“Oh, hell! Night miasma! The Ancients thought it was fatal to breathe, and they might’ve had something there! We’re practically in their territory! Next, you’ll come down with pneumonia! That‘s no good!” 

He closed the window and began leading Spock in circles again. Spock groaned, whether in surrender or as a plea for mercy, McCoy didn’t know. McCoy only knew he couldn’t let either one of them give into their fatigue. He didn’t want to torture Spock, but he didn’t want Spock to die on him, either. Here he was, killing Spock to keep him alive.

This is about as bad as anything can get! McCoy decided.

No, it wasn’t.

“Doctor.”

“Hmm?” McCoy asked, concentrating on holding up the man who was becoming more difficult to hang onto by the minute.

“Dr. McCoy?”

“Yes?”

“I believe that I am feeling the need to use the bathroom facilities.”

Oh, hell.

“Alright.” Damn you, Jim Kirk and your Tarzan slings! Why aren’t you here to help your little green buddy in his hour of need?! Why is it me?!

Because I am a doctor, came McCoy’s sobering thought. I studied years so I could help mankind.

But I thought that I went to medical school so I wouldn’t be on bedpan duty.

But like it or not, tonight McCoy was on bedpan duty.

“Alright, let’s go to the bathroom.”

Spock frowned as he tried to focus on McCoy‘s face. “Are you experiencing the need to void your bladder, also?”

“No, just my mind,” McCoy mumbled as he steered his punch-drunk patient.

“I thought that maybe you were proposing that we void at the same time.”

“I believe in togetherness, Spock, but that would be ridiculous.”

“We did, though, that time of the first dance rehearsal.”

“We also had a bathroom full of urinals! This facility has just one little sandbox. There might be a problem with logistics.”

Inside the small bathroom, they stopped.

“How do you want to handle this, Spock?”

“I believe that I am still capable of handling myself, Doctor,” came Spock’s snippy, no-nonsense answer. He had seemed to have revived, somewhat. Perhaps the change of scenery had stimulated him.

McCoy blushed. “I meant-- Tell you what. I’ll step outside the door and give you some privacy. And holler when you finish. How about that?”

So that was the way they left it. After a few minutes, Spock reappeared, apparently greatly relieved in more than one way, and the two men started their circling again.

Later, when McCoy felt a need to void his own bladder, he saw evidence that Spock had not, in fact, still been capable of handling himself. Apparently it had developed a life of its own, had even tried to get away from him, and had put up quite a battle to be reclaimed, if the state of the bathroom was to be believed.

McCoy spent a few minutes in cleaning up the bathroom with disinfectant. By that time, he was almost out of the notion. But he decided to go ahead and use the facilities anyway. Who knew when his next opportunity would come? 

He had the world’s oldest infant in his care, and that had developed into a full-time job. How did mothers do it?


	10. Chapter 10

“Bones.”

“Hmm?”

“Wake up, Bones.”

“Hmm.”

“Is it okay for Spock to be asleep like that? Especially if he‘s had a head injury?”

“Oh, hell! Where‘s Spock?!” McCoy was immediately awake. He was going to jump to his feet, when Kirk’s hand stopped him.

“You might startle him, Bones,” Kirk said gently. “He’s in your arms.”

That’s when McCoy felt the weight on his body. He looked down and saw Spock’s head against his chest and his own arms holding him firmly in place.

“That was so sweet. I had to take a picture. It can be your Christmas card.”

“Not if I can get to it first,” McCoy threatened. 

“Then I’ll just let you keep it.”

That got a sharp look from McCoy. “What the hell does that mean?!”

“You looked awfully protective of him, Bones. And that from a guy who says he doesn’t think that much of him. What is it you feel for him again?”

“None of your damn business, meddler!” He saw Kirk’s smirk. “If you must know, I am his doctor. And I am ministering to his needs.”

“Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up. That scene sure did have all the elements of a professional medical person seeing to his patient, alright. Aloof. Restrained. Impersonal.”

“What the hell is eating you this morning, or whatever time it is?”

“It’s morning. And I guess I’m a little envious because I haven’t been to bed yet. Although, by the looks of it, neither have you. What happened here, anyway?”

“I’m not too sure. I was trying to keep Spock awake, in case he did have a concussion. But I guess we were both so tired. I can kinda remember sitting on the cot and Spock following me down on his knees. He kinda whimpered and burrowed into my side, something like a lost puppy would do. He was cold, I remember, and so tired. I didn’t have the heart to turn him away. I guess I decided that it was cruel to keep him awake any longer. He was needing rest after the ordeal of your throwing him around on the dance floor the way you did.”

“And if it was a concussion he had?”

“Oh, I think he’s going to be alright now. He isn‘t in a coma, just asleep,” McCoy said softly with a gentle smile as he looked down at the dark head cradled on his chest. “Look how he’s lying against me. So trusting. So vulnerable. With his ear against my heart. I think that its beating must have soothed him. Even asleep, I‘m bringing succor to someone in need. That‘s kind of sweet, in a way.”

Kirk turned aside with disgust. “I think I liked you better when you hated him.”

“And who says I still don’t?!” McCoy snapped.

Spock sighed and moved in his sleep.

McCoy‘s arms tightened protectively around Spock. “Now, look what you went and did, Jim! He almost woke up!”

Kirk rolled his eyes.

McCoy quickly soothed Spock with stroking hands and soft shushing sounds. Spock sighed again, smiled in his sleep, and burrowed his head against McCoy with contentment on his face. 

Kirk figured that next McCoy would be saying things like coochy-coo, but Kirk didn’t dare voice it.

“I rest my case, before my stomach flips,” Kirk muttered as he headed toward his cot. “I’m going to get some sleep. You have the conn, Bones.”

“Jim.”

“Yeah?” Kirk asked as he turned back to McCoy.

“You must be tired.”

“Isn’t that what I’ve been saying?!”

“Well, no, but I’ll let it pass.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Why do you believe that I’m really tired?”

“First, I can’t take the conn since I don’t serve on the bridge of the Enterprise. I‘ve never had the conn. In the whole time I‘ve ever been with you on the Enterprise, I‘ve never had the conn. Spock and Scotty have. Sulu has. Chekov, even. But not me.”

“Well, I guess that’s true.”

“Second, and really it should be the only reason. It apparently has escaped your notice, but at the present moment we are not on the bridge of the Enterprise!”

Kirk looked around in surprise. “Oh. Well. I suppose you’re right.”

“No supposing about it! We are not on the bridge of the Enterprise! I’m pretty certain I’d notice something like that! I‘m not too certain about a lot of stuff nowadays, especially during this mission, but I’m pretty damn certain about that!”

“I meant that you’re right.”

“Better!” He made a shooing motion with a hand. “Go on! Go to bed!”

“Do you want some help with him first?”

“I got along just fine by myself last night!” McCoy snapped. “I can continue to do so this morning!”

“I’m sorry, Bones. I know you were worried about Spock. I was, also. But I had to be gone.”

“I know you did, Jim, and I’m sorry for snapping. You couldn’t help not being here. But all of us just need some rest. And food. I‘ll find some food for all of us. Something simple, hot, and nutritious.”

“And once again the mother hen appears.”

“I’ll gladly bring you some kitchen slop, if that’s what you’re wanting, instead!”

“Whoa! Whoa!” Kirk begged with his hands up. “I didn’t say that the appearance of the mother hen was a bad thing. I simply noted that the mother hen had appeared.”

“Hair splitter! You’re worse than Spock.”

“I hope that he gets better soon. I’m not equipped to take you on verbally.”

“Well, just go on now and get your beauty sleep, or I’ll put you over here on the other side of me. Then I’ll have an arm around the both of you. I seem to have a way about me.”

Kirk considered it. “That does look comfy, but I don’t want to interfere with the invalid. You can handle only one child at a time.”

“Remember that you were the one who said that,” McCoy mumbled.

At that moment, someone knocked on the door. Without thinking, the sleepy Kirk walked over and opened it.

“Captain Pierce! How are you today?!”

Kirk groaned to himself. Obviously, Jerome had gotten the sleep that Kirk wished for himself.

“Come in, Jerome,” Kirk invited, once more without thinking.

Jerome did so, but stopped short when he saw the two men tangled together on one cot.

“Guido? Stephano? But I do not understand.” He looked at Kirk for clarification. “Guido and Stephano? Boom-boom?”

Understanding dawned on Kirk. “Oh, no! No, it isn’t what it seems!”

“What is it then, Captain? Men do not lie together in each other’s arms for innocent reasons. Not in France!”

Kirk was saved from inventing a story to explain why McCoy was clinging to Spock because Spock chose that moment to awaken. He looked around, discovered that he was in encircling arms, glanced up to see who was holding him, looked stunned as his body jerked and tensed, and treated everyone in the room to a rare display of hybrid Vulcan/Earthling emotion.

“Doctor!”

“Who?” Jerome wanted to know. “Why is Stephano calling Guido ‘Doctor?’”

“It’s a pet name that Stephano has for Guido,” Kirk explained lamely.

“Darlin!’ Shush!” McCoy cautioned.

“Darlin?!’” Spock exclaimed as he struggled in McCoy‘s arms.

“And now they are calling each other ‘Darlin?’”

Kirk shrugged. Even he couldn’t think fast enough.

“Sweetheart. Shush! We have company.”

“Darlin?!’ Sweetheart?! Have you gone crazy, Doctor?!”

“Stephano seems to have sobered up,” Kirk explained to Jerome. “And when that happens, he’s a regular bear.”

“Obviously,” Jerome agreed.

Spock broke McCoy’s hold and jumped to his feet. The quick movement made him dizzy, and he stumbled.

McCoy reached out and grabbed him. “Careful, Sp-- Stephano.”

Spock stared at him, then gave Kirk a beseeching look. “Captain! Thank goodness you are present! The doctor seems to have lost his senses!”

Thankfully, the title of Captain fit both the names of Kirk and Pierce.

“He’s back to calling Guido ‘Doctor,’” Jerome noted.

“Hmm,” Kirk answered.

“What is wrong with the doctor, Captain?” Spock asked, puzzled.

“Stephano, I think you should rest some more.”

Spock looked puzzled at Kirk. “Now you are not making sense, Captain Kirk.”

“Captain Kirk?” Jerome echoed.

“My first name. I‘m Kirk Pierce.”

“Jim, I really must protest! This charade has gone far enough.”

“Jim? What is Stephano talking about?” Jerome echoed. “How many names do you have, anyway, Captain?”

“It’s a pet name that Sp-- Stephano likes to call me.”

“Jim? Jim is a pet name?” Jerome wanted to know. “Sweetie, I could understand. Or Snuggums. Even Kirkie. But Jim?”

Kirk shrugged. “I try to indulge him. It keeps him happier.”

“Captain!” Spock protested.

“It must all be very confusing, Captain Pierce.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Kirk murmured.


	11. Chapter 11

At that moment, Letitia flounced into the room with earrings and full skirts swaying every which way. “So, this is where you have gone! To another woman!”

For once, Jerome was innocent, and he made the most of it. “But, my pet. There is no woman present but the beautiful one who just made such a glorious entrance.”

Letitia tossed her many curls and made a spitting motion. “You are hiding her!”

“But where?” Jerome asked as he turned to present their meager surroundings. “This is but a tiny room with three cots and a table with chairs. Where would a woman be hiding?”

In plain sight, the other three men in the room wanted to answer, but wisely held their tongues. Even Spock was beginning to sort the pieces back together. Kirk and McCoy could almost see the wheels turning as the Vulcan made sense of the situation and reconnect with their present world.

“Come, my pet,” Jerome suggested. “Let us be on our way and leave these gentlemen to their morning routines.” He looked the three up and down with disdain. “It appears that they have just arisen and are in no condition to be entertaining a lady such as yourself.”

The other three men made self-conscious motions. Ever the gentlemen, they felt guilty about a situation for which they had no need or no reason to feel guilty. Letitia had not been cajoled into their room. Indeed, she had not even been invited by them.

“Humph!” Letitia declared as she gathered her skirts about her and flounced out of the room. “I still think that those women are in this room!” 

She at least had that part right.

“Gentlemen,” Jerome nodded formally to each, then followed his wife. “Sweetheart! My own! Wait!”

“Why did he act as if our appearances were insulting the delicate senses of his retiring wife?” McCoy snorted with disdain. “I believe that we’re the ones who should feel insulted. That woman could probably walk through a men’s locker room after a sporting event and not even bat an eye! She’d probably stop and adjust a few jock straps! And we‘re supposed to feel that we haven’t been chivalrous?!”

“She’s a woman, Bones. Women have known how to tighten that screw in men’s heads ever since Adam and Eve got tossed out of the Garden of Eden. By the time that Eve got through haranguing at him, Adam thought it was all his fault and not really knowing what he‘d done outside of lusting after Eve.“

McCoy frowned. “You really do hate women, don’t you, Kirk?“

“They started it!“

“Your mother and the Enterprise. The two great female loves of your life. The only females you completely trust.“

“Wonder what Jerome wanted with us?” Kirk questioned, trying to change the subject. “He never did say.”

“Why did I wake up in Dr. McCoy’s arms?” Spock demanded. “That was very disconcerting. And not at all logical. Would either of you gentlemen care to explain?”

Neither Kirk nor McCoy jumped on it, and it soured Spock’s disposition for the rest of the day. In fact, he was rather pissy about the whole matter.

All in all, it was the start of a typical day for the gallant trio.

 

“How are you feeling, Mr. Spock?”

“Still groggy, Captain. I believe that it is not any effects of a concussion, though.”

“That’s good news. You seem a little furry headed, though.“ Kirk thought that was a little more diplomatic than calling Spock grouchy. “Maybe you need a stimulant.”

“That is what I was thinking. I have considered caffeine.”

“Caffeine will get your motor racing, that’s for certain.” Brighten his outlook, too.

“Ordinarily, I drink tea for soothing properties. I do not consume it to become agitated.”

“It would probably take gallons of it to affect you. Chocolate might just be what you’re needing.”

Spock smiled benignly. Maybe the day could be saved, after all. “You always have the best ideas, Captain.”

“There’s a local chocolate that I understand is quite good. You might sample that.”

“Captain, in my present state, I believe that I will do more than sample it.”

 

Nobody ever really knew the full circumstances of how it happened, but the chocolate that Spock obtained was laced with the illegal hallucinogenic drugs that were being distributed by the space pirates. All that Kirk and a puzzled McCoy knew about it was that it led Spock to make an announcement that no one had anticipated.

 

“So nice to see you this afternoon, Madame Lolita,” Jerome said politely. “You are indeed a vision.”

“Thank you,” McCoy squeaked while fluttering a fan over ‘her’ face. McCoy’s eyes were threatening Kirk with dire consequences if he tried to leave McCoy alone with Jerome. McCoy and Kirk had been innocently strolling along the street when Jerome had accosted them, or rather Lolita.

“It is amazing how much you sound like your brother Guido, Madame Lolita.”

“We are identical twins, you know.”

“It is equally amazing that your troupe has the second set of identical twins with Stephano and Stephana. And a set of cousins with Captain Pierce and Guilluamo.”

“Yes. Quite,” McCoy muttered.

Jerome leaned closer to ‘Lolita.’ “I wonder if you would permit me to stroll with you without the escort of Captain Pierce.”

McCoy’s fan fluttered faster. “Oh, I go nowhere without my dear captain.”

“Really?” Jerome shot Kirk a disgruntled look. “I would think that a liberated lady such as yourself would be more enlightened than that.”

“Oh, Stephano would be too jealous if he were to learn of my not being properly chaperoned.”

“Why? Are you two betrothed?”

“Well--” McCoy sputtered, then mentally crossed his fingers. “We do have an understanding.”

“You do? Or do you just assume that there is an understanding? Is Stephano enjoying your innocent fruits without making a ironclad commitment to you?”

“Well--”

“He is a hot-blooded man,” Kirk said, stepping forward. “We do not rile him unnecessarily. You know how the Latins are.”

“But he should make a commitment, Captain. Stephano should either marry the sweet Lolita, or step aside and let her choose someone else.”

“Oh, we can’t push Stephano like that--”

“Captain, I insist! I will come to this lovely lady’s defense if no one else will! I am prepared to bring her into modern times! We are no longer in the Twenty-First Century! Stephano needs to either act or step aside so that this lady may live as she was intended!”

“Oh, we can’t push Stephano into marriage,” Kirk insisted. “We do not know how he feels on the subject.”

Suddenly, a new voice was heard behind them, and they all learned how Stephano felt on the subject of marriage.

“I am Stephano!” Spock snarled. “And I will marry the fair Lolita!”

Three startled faces whirled to see a blurry-eyed Stephano stumbling toward them.

“Spo- Stephano! What’s wrong?!” Kirk demanded. “You look, ah, different.” Inflamed, Kirk thought, but decided wisely not to voice his observation.

“Aside, Captain Kirk!” Spock also demanded as he pushed past Kirk. “I am here to claim what is mine! And Lolita is mine!” He roughly grabbed McCoy’s arm.

“Ouch! You big ox, stop that! You‘re hurting me!”

“Shut up, woman! What do you mean by flirting with another man?!”

“Who’s flirting?!” McCoy wanted to know as he struggled to get away from Spock. “What struck you, anyway?!”

“Seeing you with another man, that is what struck me!” a surly Spock answered. “Right in my trusting heart, you have stabbed me! And I will not have it!”

“I think that Jerome and I would’ve had to be caught in a little more compromising positions for you to get so pissed off,” McCoy muttered.

“Shut up!”

“Hey, now! Nobody talks to me like that! I don’t care if you are half green!”

“We marry this evening! You will cleave to only me!”

“Cleave?!” McCoy echoed. “What the hell?! Who‘s cleaving?!”

“Make your preparations! Don your wedding dress! Something white, gauzy, and frilly! I will not be deterred in my cleaving with you, Lolita!” 

“Are you crazy?!”

“Enough! Obey! Tonight! Mine!”

Oh, boy, McCoy thought. One word sentences. Never a good sign. 

Spock released McCoy with a rough shake. McCoy slapped a protecting hand on his bruised arm and massaged the protesting muscles.

Spock next grabbed Jerome in his iron vise. “You will come with me, and we will celebrate my wedding. Now! Then this evening you will be my best man. That way, I can keep track of you until I can claim the gems awaiting for my pleasure in Lolita‘s treasure chest!” He looked at Kirk. “Make the arrangements for the wedding, Captain. Make haste! The nuptials are tonight! As leader of our dance troupe, you will give the bride away. Come, Jerome!“ With that, he propelled a stunned Jerome down the street.

McCoy and Kirk were left staring after them.

“I would’ve thought that Spock would’ve had me as his best man.” Kirk sounded a little hurt.

“That’s all you can think about?! You‘re not his best man?!” McCoy demanded with blazing eyes. “There’s something more important going on here! The big green guy wants to marry me and make me his own! Do you know what that entails?!”

Kirk glanced at McCoy. “I believe that I do. It means that you won’t be sleeping by yourself anymore. Hell, it’ll probably mean that you won’t be sleeping at all from now on. That‘ll probably reflect in your work performance in sickbay.”

“I’m glad that you realize the problem here! Where the hell did all of this cleaving come from?! Who put the idea of marriage into his head, anyway?!“

“Well, I, ah, might be responsible for that.”

“Why should that come as a shock?” McCoy muttered. “Not one of your greater schemes, Kirk. Sham wedding.”

“I can see that now. He was just supposed to be protecting you.”

“Well, he’s kinda moved a little beyond that now, hasn’t he?”

Kirk shrugged. He couldn’t deny anything that McCoy was saying.

“And what the hell happened to Spock?! Now he thinks that he really is Stephano, and I doubt if it‘s because Method Acting has finally kicked in.”

“He was groggy and grouchy. I told him to go eat some chocolate to give him some energy.”

“Well, that he got done! He must’ve shoved it down by the handfuls! He thinks he‘s Godzilla! Next, he‘ll blow fire and take out Tokyo again!”

“The chocolate must be laced with drugs.”

“So, the Vulcan is not only drunk, but high! Not great husband material! Helluva way to start a marriage!”

“Come on, Bones, what’s so bad?” Kirk asked with a lazy smile. “You’ll be getting Spock. How bad can that be?”

“But he’s marrying Lolita! What will it be for him when he comes down off his high, sobers up, and finds that it’s nobody else but Leonard McCoy sleeping beside him. He will not be very happy with any of us then. In fact, he‘ll probably hate himself more than you or me. And that‘s not the kind of emotion that I wanted to be his first one to feel.” He glared at Kirk. “This whole situation has gotten a little out of hand, Captain Kirk. And I expect you to fix it. But in the meantime, line up a minister and a church. This appears to be my wedding day, and I don‘t want it spoiled. Whatever Spock and I feel for each other should not be part of a carnival show.” 

Kirk looked perplexed.

With that, McCoy stomped away, without escort. For who out there was left to accost the lovely Lolita?

 

McCoy sat waiting that evening in the white gauzy dress which Spock had requested he wear. McCoy knew one thing for damn sure. It sure as hell wasn’t supposed to come down to this. He wasn’t supposed to be waiting demurely for a bridegroom who couldn’t remember who he was. He wasn’t supposed to be having a wedding night with Spock. Not that he wouldn’t mind having a wedding night with Spock. That wasn’t it. He just would like it better, though, if Spock knew who he was getting. On the other hand, Spock might mind if it was McCoy.

Just wait until McCoy caught up with Jim Kirk again! An afternoon of waiting had not been soothing for McCoy. The captain had a lot to answer for, mainly why he let Spock take hallucinogenic drugs and tell him it was a new form of chocolate. 

Negotiations with the space pirates were to trap them in a compromising position with drugs in their possession, not entrap McCoy and Spock in a little love nest.

 

McCoy didn’t know exactly when, but he fell asleep in the chair as he waited for his drunken bridegroom to claim him. A bouquet of red sweetheart roses slowly wilted in his hands, then finally fell to the floor from lax fingers.

The wedding never happened, so the wedding night didn‘t, either.


	12. Chapter 12

McCoy opened his eyes and moved his cramped body. He hurt in a dozen places and made that observation known with an audible groan. He scrubbed his weary face with an abrasive hand and looked around with bleary eyes. Why the hell had he been sleeping upright in a chair when a cot for his use was only a few feet away?

He looked down at himself. And why in the hell did he seem to be dressed in a white, gauzy dress with yards of ruffles around the skirt?! It looked more like a damn curtain than any sensible dress he had ever seen, let alone worn. What the hell was supposed to be its purpose, anyway?! Why was he dressed in a damn curtain?! Why had he ever permitted himself to be dressed in that sort of attire?!

And why was there a bouquet of half-wilted sweetheart roses at his feet?

And then he remembered. This was supposed to be the morning after his wedding night with his new husband, a husband, it seemed, who had never made an appearance. What had happened to Spock? Why hadn’t he appeared, as promised, to marry McCoy? After all, it had been Spock’s idea, not McCoy’s. But McCoy had been willing enough to go along with it because he secretly wouldn’t have minded being married to the Vulcan.

It had all seemed so much like a fairy tale when Spock had demanded his hand, though, and now it had proven to be nothing more than a fairy tale.

So, as with the other believers in fairy tales, McCoy had been left alone and feeling used and stupid. And shallow. And ungainly. And not pretty at all.

 

“Spock passed out?” McCoy asked as he sat nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee. The hard rolls on his plate looked tough, and a shower of crumbs had exploded from the one he’d tried to cut. The other roll lay pristine and would probably remain that way. McCoy had no appetite for it or the stale butter or runny fruit preserves staring back at him in contempt.

Kirk simply nodded his head.

“That‘s why he didn‘t show up?“ McCoy wanted to know.

“He had a bad night, Bones. Don’t be too hard on him.“

“He had a bad night?! He stood me up,“ McCoy muttered. “How am I supposed to feel?”

“I don‘t know what to tell you.”

“I was left at the altar, Jim.”

“Stephano stood Lolita up. And the fake wedding fiasco gave us the cover we needed to fool the space pirates. We caught them, and they are in jail.“

McCoy’s head shot up. “What? What?!”

“I said--”

“The operation has ended?!” McCoy asked with some disdain. “I wasn’t aware that it had even started! How could it be over, if it never really has started?!”

“Because it never really started, for us,” Kirk carefully explained.

“Eh?”

“It was a hoax, Bones. A sham while Captain Prescott and the crew of the Valiant did the real work of capturing the space pirates.”

“And we were, what?” McCoy asked, still confused.

“Just what we were supposed to be. A cover. The space pirates were busy watching us while the Valiant crew drew a net around them.”

“So, all the business about Karl the knife thrower and Jerome and Letitia and the rest of the carnival people--”

“Were smoke screens. All for the illusion to keep the space pirates occupied and confused.”

McCoy frowned. “They weren’t the only ones,” he muttered. He looked up. “And the wedding. Did you get Spock to do that just for ‘a smoke screen, too?’”

“Well, I might have ‘encouraged’ his thinking along those lines, but that proposal was all Spock‘s idea.”

“Then he might have been truthful about his marriage proposal?”

Kirk shrugged with a slight grin. “Well, I gotta admit that was a little extra bonus for us. It really confused the pirates and put their guard down. It made things a little easier for us.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad that my little romance was good for something.” 

Hurt and pain dripped over every word he spoke, and only someone utterly hardhearted or stupid could have missed how injured and used McCoy felt.

“Bones. Come on. I‘m sorry.”

“I made an ass out of myself. Are you proud of yourself for having helped in doing that?”

“Bones--”

“You’re a friend. Friends are supposed to protect each other.”

“I didn’t intend to hurt you.”

“But hurt me, you did.”

“I can see that. Now.”

“You used me. And Spock. How is he, anyway?” 

“He was pretty groggy at first, but I think that he‘s coming out of it alright.” 

“Well, yeah! He was drunk on chocolate that was laced with drugs after just getting over a near concussion! He had his world rocked, and hard!“

“You never said that it was a concussion for sure.“

“Be that as it may, how could you take the chance with him?! How could you turn around and let him take dangerous drugs?!“

“I didn’t LET him.“

But McCoy wasn’t listening. “How could you let him do something that dangerous to himself when the outcome could have been horrendous?!”

“I didn‘t know about the drugs when I suggested the chocolate to him. Honest.”

“So you do have some limits when it comes to using your friends.”

“Bones. Be fair.”

“I’m being unfair?! I can’t see how I’m the one at fault here.”

“You aren’t. It was a streak of good luck grabbing the space pirates, and bad luck when it came to my dealings with you and Spock. I‘m left pretty much looking like a chicken shit, aren‘t I?” Kirk paused for a long moment. “Bones, say something.”

“I’m not arguing with anything you’re saying. It looks like you pretty well have yourself pegged for what you are.“ McCoy frowned as he looked up at Kirk. “What does Spock think about all of this?”

“I don’t know how much of it he understands.” Kirk shrugged. “I don’t know if it would even bother him.”

“Finish what you were going to say. You don’t know if it would even bother him. Like it would me.”

“Well, yeah, something like that.”

McCoy breathed deeply. “So, I’m just supposed to suck it up and go on?”

“It’d be real nice if you would,” Kirk said hopefully. “You don’t know of the bind that I was in.”

McCoy frowned. “Starfleet had you by the short hairs?”

“It was the commander’s way of getting back for dicking his whole family. We had to take all the chances on this operation by being out in plain sight. Then, when the space pirates were captured, we had to stand back and let Prescott and the crew of the Valiant take all the glory.”

“That had to gall you worse than anything.”

Kirk sighed deeply. “It didn’t set very well with me; no. But the commander had all of his clout behind him. He made me eat crap, and I had to like it. Because it was all, oh, so official. I never realized how much the guy hated my guts.” 

“You belittled him in his family’s eyes and made him feel small. That makes a man defensive. And vengeful.”

“Yeah. I know. Now.”

“Then we were nothing but decoys?”

“That’s right.”

“That may be right, but it doesn’t seem right.”

“Bones. We did our jobs. That’s all that matters. I‘m sorry that you and Spock had to get messed up with it, but I really needed people I trusted with me.”

“Couldn’t you have let Spock and me in on the true nature of the charade?”

“I had strict orders. And it worked better if you didn‘t know.”

“I’m a little disappointed in you, Jim.”

“For following orders?”

“Yeah.” McCoy closed his eyes and shook his head. “No.” He bit his lips. “What if I’d done that to you?”

“I would’ve been the one giving the orders to you, Bones,” Kirk said softly. “And I would’ve expected you to carry them out.”

McCoy inhaled deeply and let his breath out noisily. “Yeah. I see what you mean.” He gave Kirk a level look. “But I don’t have to like it.”

“I didn’t like it, either, Bones, but I did what I was told to do and what I had to do.”

“You were playing both ends against the middle.”

“And won. Because you and Spock did what you were supposed to do.”

“Yeah, we did, didn’t we?” He pulled himself to his feet.

“Where are you headed, Bones?”

“Out. I think I want to be alone for awhile. I need some fresh air. If that is alright with you, Captain Kirk.”

The title hurt Kirk worse than he ever thought that it would. “No. That’s alright. Dismissed.”

A moment later, Spock entered and seated himself. “I just saw Dr. McCoy. I believe that he did not see me.”

“I expect he isn‘t too happy with either of us right now.”

“Is there a problem between you two, Captain?”

“McCoy is a little disgusted with me.”

“Because--”

“Because I did not let you two know the whole plan.”

“I see.”

“You seemed alright with it when I explained the situation to you, so I thought that McCoy would be, also. I was rather surprised that you could even compute what I was talking about, let alone understand it. You’ve had a couple of rough days.“

“A complete rest can do wonders, Jim. And I understand that I passed out quite early.“

“You did. You missed everything, and so did McCoy. The wedding, the capture of the space pirates, your wedding night.“

“It does seem rather undone and at loose ends for me. I suppose that I must make amends to Dr. McCoy for my behavior, also.“

“I’m sorry that got so out of hand, but it worked so beautifully into our smoke screen. The pirates didn’t know what was going to happen next.“ He considered. “Was I wrong, Spock? If you two wouldn’t have acted normally, fighting and all, then none of this would have worked.”

“I see.”

“No, you don’t! You can’t! How can you understand it when a full-blooded Earthling can’t?!” 

Spock remained stoic, but Kirk saw a small amount of pain flicker in Spock’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. Now I’ve gone and pissed you off. Two friends in one day. That must be some sort of record, and I‘ve had diplomatic training.”

“What have you ever told me about Dr. McCoy and myself?”

“Overlook the everyday squabbles and see the bigger picture?”

“Does that precept not work for other people?”

“Well, certainly! But--”

“And you apologized?”

“Yes. Of course. But I don’t know if he accepted it.”

Spock stood. “I will see to Dr. McCoy. You rest.”

“But--”

“Jim. Only the friend to both of you can do this.”

“You feel that you are his friend?”

“I always have been and always will be his friend. But he is hardheaded and cannot see it.”

“I know what you mean. Good luck.”

“I will need everything I can muster when it comes to dealing with him, even the Earthling‘s superstitious belief in luck.”

“I thought you said that you are his friend.”

“I also said that he is hardheaded.”

After Spock left, Kirk was happy that he had sent good luck with him. Spock was indeed going to need all the help he could get to deal with McCoy.


	13. Chapter 13

Spock found McCoy sitting on a bench beneath a lilac tree. Its glossy leaves rustled softly in the breeze and were threatening to lull McCoy to sleep.

“Sleepy, Doctor?”

McCoy‘s eyes swung up. Spock?! Of all the gall, and acting as if it was an ordinary day! Well, two could play that game. Besides, McCoy was just too hurt to launch into an argument. The way his nerves were frayed, he was afraid that he would start crying. If he and the whole situation meant so little to Spock, then McCoy could sure as hell play by the alien’s cruel rules. He didn‘t want to let Spock know how much he was hurt. He‘d be indifferent, too.

“Oh. Spock. Guess I was dozing. I haven’t been sleeping too well lately, and I suppose it was catching up with me. And it‘s pleasant in the shade of this old tree.”

“May I sit with you for awhile and enjoy the shade, also?”

“I don’t own the bench,” McCoy grumbled, but slid over and made room.

They sat quietly for a few moments.

The doctor in McCoy couldn’t keep silent any longer. “Are you feeling better today? Any residual ill effects?”

“Thank you for asking. I am quite recovered. Unlike you, I apparently got a good night’s rest.”

McCoy did a mental eye roll.

“Then, this morning, I was able to meditate. That did wonders for me, also.”

“Good. Glad you’re better.” Then he turned away, thus signaling the end of what he was willing to discuss.

But Spock wasn‘t finished, apparently, much to McCoy‘s annoyance. “It is indeed pleasant here in the shade, Doctor. The day will become quite warm later on, I expect.”

“It is summer in southern France!” McCoy snipped. “What do you expect?!” Maybe he could just defuse their present angst with some ridiculous argument, then just go on with their lives as if nothing had happened. Then it would simply be a festering wound to McCoy, like so many he had to endure down through the years. But he had created it with his unwarranted hoping, so it was only just that he suffer from it in silence and alone.

But Spock would not get trapped in an argument that had nothing to do with the present undercurrent between them. “Yes, it is truly wonderful here,” he answered pleasantly.

“It’s a resort area. Well, the whole damn country is a resort, actually, or should be. It’s like England. They should both be made into one huge park. Everywhere you look is a spectacular view or a grand building or a work of art. The whole place is an outdoor museum. Nothing should sully it.”

Spock looked around in satisfaction and changed tactics. He didn’t exactly plunge right into the fray, but chipped at it. “It would be a scenic area for a honeymoon.”

McCoy smarted, but now he didn‘t want to be in an argument. He wouldn‘t be baited or sidetracked. He wanted it to be his idea. “I hate to tell you, but you’re not the first one to come up with that idea of a resort around here, or that it be used as a honeymoon location.”

“I had assumed that perhaps that was the case.”

“Well, you’re right.” Then, in an attempt to trip up the Vulcan, he changed the subject. He didn‘t want to talk about honeymoons, unless it was his own. “Oh, you should have been here a few minutes quicker. Jerome and Letitia came by.”

Spock looked alert. “Did he threaten you?”

“Down, big guy. They just wanted to say goodbye to us, and Guido was the only one they could find. The carnival is moving on.” He’d seen how protective Spock had gotten. “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

“I have seen little evidence of that.”

“Well, I can. Occasionally, I can even manage to make it through a whole day without your help. I know that sounds like something out of a fantasy, but you‘ll just have to take my word for it. In fact, I can manage very well without you.”

Spock looked dejected.

McCoy, at last, got some compassion for his companion. “It’s always nice to know that you’re around, though, in case I do have trouble,” he said softly. “I want you to know that I do appreciate it.” That was all safe to say, he figured.

Spock‘s face cleared. “Why, thank you, Leonard.”

That amazed McCoy for two reasons. First, Spock had called him by his first named. And second, Spock actually seemed to brighten.

“Besides, Jerome wasn’t interested in me whom he knows as Guido,” McCoy continued. “He was unhappy because he could not find Madame Lolita or Stephana, though. Of course, he couldn’t voice that too loudly because the lovely Letitia and her wicked knife were right at his side.”

“It seems that a lot of people are unhappy this morning in this beautiful part of the world. Jerome. Letitia. You.” He glanced at McCoy. “And Jim. I was just talking with him. He said that he had told you what happened last night with the space pirates.”

“Oh. That.”

“He said that you were disappointed in him.”

“That I am.”

“But you still think of him as your friend, do you not?” Spock asked gently.

McCoy looked horrified. “Well, of course! How could he think any differently?!”

“Because the bonds of friendship are strong, but they can sometimes rupture with the slightest test. Jim believes that he has ruptured that bond.”

“Not permanently,” McCoy grumbled. “I’m just aggravated that he used you and me so brazenly.” 

“He feels badly about what happened to you. You must reassure him.”

“Why do I have to do all that forgiving?” McCoy grumbled.

“Doctor. The important thing is that he is your friend, not who does the forgiving. That is why you must help him. He is not a callous person, and you must surely understand how much he really needs you. That is a sacred trust that you and I have with him.”

“Why does it take an alien to teach me about love?” McCoy asked with a soft smile. “How can you possibly understand that much about it?”

“Because you and Jim Kirk make the effort to teach me.”

McCoy pursed his lips.

“And I am forever grateful.”

“It was easy,” McCoy tried to say off-hand.

“It is lucky that you are not Vulcan.”

“Why?”

“You would have never been able to say that.”

McCoy‘s smile was wistful. “It just wrangles me that Jim was able to use us so easily.”

“How so?”

McCoy shrugged. “I guess that our bickering is predictable.”

“That predictability helped the plan to work. We sounded as if we, as if Staphano and Madame Lolita, were in a relationship. It is the same relationship as the one between Jerome and his Letitia. They fight constantly, but cannot do without each other.”

“Yeah, we got the sounds of a relationship, alright,” McCoy said with disgust. “But without the relationship. No wonder we’re considered laughingstocks.” 

“And whose fault it that, Doctor?”

“It sure as hell wasn’t mine! I wasn’t the one who didn’t keep our appointment!“ McCoy had had enough. He was tired of ignoring the obvious topic that each seemed reluctant to breach. “You stood me up last night! We were supposed to get married! Now the whole world is laughing at me!”

“Stephano was supposed to marry Lolita.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what Jim said,” he answered the voice of Reason. Maybe the world had a reason to be laughing at him, but he was a lost cause now.

“I was incapacitated. I did not know what I was doing when I proposed.”

“Well, I knew what I was doing!” McCoy said as he crossed his arms. “And believe me, I felt pretty stupid sitting around all dressed up in that white, gauzy dress!”

“You actually wore what I requested?” Spock asked in amazement.

“Yes, I actually wore what you requested!” McCoy mocked.

“Why?”

“Because you asked me to!” Tears peppered his eyes, and he hated that he was showing so much of the hurt that he was feeling. “Because you asked me to,” he repeated, but mumbled it that time.

“You would have married me?” Amazement was still reflecting in Spock’s voice.

“Yes!” McCoy admitted in misery. “Now, go ahead. Have your laugh. The rest of the world will, too.”

“I will not laugh at you. And the whole world better not, either.”

“I don’t know why not! Look what I was willing to go through just so a mission wouldn‘t go wrong. To think that I thought everything hinged on our sham wedding.“

“But I believe that it did.“

“Then I went and took it seriously. It’s pretty damn funny, when you think about it. Time to laugh. Ha! Ha!”

“No, Leonard, you were hurt. I would not laugh at you if you were hurting. Neither will the rest of the world. Compassion is still around.“

“Don’t you mean pity?“ McCoy asked bitterly.

“You were hurt, and I believe that it is now my obligation to make that up to you.”

“Don’t strain yourself any. We’ll just forget about it.”

“But I do not want to ignore your sentiment. Not when it reflects my own thinking.”

“What are you saying, Vulcan?! That you want to be in a relationship with me?!”

“I believe that we do fit the definition of a relationship that I recently stated. We fight constantly, but cannot do without each other. We should explore the reasons for that. I believe that we may be amazed, but not surprised.”

McCoy huffed, crossed his arms, and turned away.

“It would take the edge off the bickering, Leonard. We would not have so much tension between us.”

McCoy turned back. “The sexual tension, you mean?! And what are we going to do to get rid of that sexual tension, answer me that?! Go to bed with each other?!”

Spock gave him a placid look.

“Oh, no! No, no, no! Now you’ve gone too far! First Stephano makes false promises to Lolita, and now this! No wonder Jim used us so easily!”

“We are partly to fault, Doctor, with our constant arguing with each other. You cannot blame Jim for taking advantage of that situation between us.”

“Well, I’m making certain that it doesn’t happen again!” McCoy declared with his arms crossed again. “I just won’t talk to you, and that’s that!”

“That is hardly a solution, Doctor. We are crew mates and must relate to each other.”

“Alright! We’ll interrelate just on a professional level then! Otherwise, you’re over there, and I don’t have to go over there!”

“If that was even a feasible solution, Doctor, why are you so angry about it?”

McCoy uncrossed his arms, let his air out of his lungs, and seemed to collapse. “I don’t want to have to do that. Damn it, we’re friends! Despite the arguing, we’re friends, and I don’t want to lose that!”

“I do not, either.”

“Then what are we going to do about it?” McCoy asked in misery.

“I propose that we change paradigms.”

“Oh?”

“We were selected for this mission because it is a known fact that we argue a lot. I propose that we not be known for that anymore.”

“That wouldn’t work,” McCoy grumbled.

“Why not? You think that nobody would believe it?”

“I wouldn’t like it,” McCoy confessed. “I guess I kind of like arguing with you.”

“I like arguing with you, too, Leonard. And I did not say that we would give up our arguing. I proposed that we not be known for that anymore.”

“And what are you proposing that we be known as?”

“A couple.”

“A couple of what?”

“Just that. A couple. A couple in a definite relationship with each other.”

“A couple in a relationship,” McCoy repeated, not even trying to hide his mocking incredulity. McCoy turned aside. “I will not have you make fun of me that way!”

“What way, Doctor? What would be the problem?” Spock asked, almost conversationally.

McCoy looked down in sorrow. “Because it would take the heart out of me if you were only teasing.”

“I am not teasing, Doctor.” Spock laid his nearest hand over McCoy’s nearest hand. “We really cannot do without each other, so I am asking if you will be in a loving relationship with me.”

McCoy’s head shot up. His heart was in his eyes. Spock had used the 'L' word.

“I have never known anyone quite like you, Leonard McCoy. You constantly surprise me. And I worry about you constantly. So the only solution I can see is if we are together. Then I can be as amazed and as protective of you as much as I want to be.” His fingers rubbed across the top of McCoy’s fingers. “I have never felt so protected as I did when I was injured and went to sleep in your arms. I want to know that perfect peace again and never lose it.“ The pressure on McCoy’s hand increased. “Stephano wanted to marry you, and so do I.” 

McCoy continued to stare as the tears threatened to spill out of his eyes.

“I am proposing to you under this lilac tree, Doctor, because it is a symbol of devotion to us. Will you be mine?”

McCoy finally got his voice back. “Do you really mean that, Vulcan?” The eyes were so hesitant, yet so hopeful.

“I really mean it, Doctor,” Spock said softly.

“Damn romantic Vulcan!” McCoy said as a tear slid down his cheek.

“I want to be yours, Leonard. Will you have me?” 

“Then, yes! Oh, hell, yes!” McCoy exclaimed. 

Spock barely managed to get his arms opened in time to catch the man diving straight toward him, but catch him he did.

There, Jim Kirk, Spock thought as he held McCoy at long last. I do believe that I have gotten the doctor to think about something else besides you.

Then Spock smiled to himself. And I have gotten the little pepper pot for mine. That is two problems solved at once.

All in all, a good start to any day, especially this day in this land of honeymoons. He and McCoy could put this land to good use.

Spock sighed as he pulled his arms more around McCoy and brushed his lips across the side of McCoy‘s head. It could almost be considered a first kiss. He had wanted to do that to McCoy for such a long time. That, and so many other things that could not be done under this lilac tree. A proper kiss on the lips would come in a moment. But it was a start.

A good start, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.


End file.
